Summertime
by Magali1
Summary: Set between seasons two and three; What happened to get Lyla to go back to Tim for those six weeks? Also focuses on what happened with Jason, Smash, Matt/Julie, Tyra/Landry, and Mindy/Billy. Alternates Lyla and Tim POV. Complete 8/21/2013.
1. Apology Accepted

**A/N:**Still editing a previous fic before I'm ready to post it; in the meantime, I revisited the idea of exploring what happened between seasons two and three a bit more with Tim/Lyla, but it also touches on others, like Jason, Smash, Matt and Julie, Tyra and Landry, and Billy and Mindy. I had a previous fic on this, but it was much shorter and only Lyla POV and I took it down. Hopefully this one is a bit better. Hope people enjoy it. Thanks.

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**Chapter 1: Apology Accepted**

What am I doing?

Where am I going?

She sat on the hood of her car, holding a cup of coffee between her hands. The heat seeped through the cheap cardboard 'coffee collar' into her palms. It was nice. Despite being mid-July, it was a very chilly morning. Last night there had been a storm, blowing through the heat wave and leaving behind the chill compared to the stifling heat from the previous couple of weeks.

Texas in summer, nothing else like it, she mused, listening to the cicadas hum. It was a nice little morning…symphony. All of God's creatures at work, she thought, glancing at the Bible sitting beside her thigh. She hadn't really been studying it to the extent she had, this time last year.

Call her crazy, but she'd stopped going to the church after she broke up with Chris. She just…she couldn't handle it anymore. The pressure to try to be the perfect Christian girl. Hell, she'd done that. Played that role and she thought hse could just be…fine there.

Nope.

She thought about Chris, placing her chin in her hand, propping her elbow on her knee as she peered out over the empty field. It was out off the highway. There was a giant for sale sign, for about forty something acres.

It'd be nice to build a house here, she thought, scanning the hillside. Maybe a farmhouse, with a big porch. Somewhere to sit and rock in a chair and watch the sunrise and set.

Where am I going, she wondered again.

"Vanderbilt," she said out loud. Voicing her number one college choice only made her feel more secure in making that her number one choice. Yeah, Baylor or Princeton were good choices, but…she didn't want to go where her mother went. Or her father, for that matter, so that ruled out UT.

I want to be my own person.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking of Chris again. That hadn't been the best of breakups. She felt her cheeks warm a little at one of the reasons for ending things with him. It had been over two years…a girl had needs, she thought, sighing.

And Chris had no intention of fulfilling them until they were married; if ever.

Lyla slid off the hood of her car, going around to the backseat and removing a notebook and pen, slipping her Bible into her messenger bag, before she returned to the hood of her car, flicking the cover back and beginning to make a list of things she had to do before the school year started.

"Six weeks," she grumbled. How could it be six weeks before she was a senior?

She made a note to stop by the library and pick up the books she'd be reading in her Advanced Placement English, to make sure she'd read through them once prior to the class beginning, so she could focus on the themes and characters.

Another note to buy a new bag for her books. She loved school supply shopping, so she'd get that done too…maybe she'd stop by the church and see about making her amends to the pastor, for running down the street to the megachurch because…well because she didn't want anything to do with her family.

Maybe she'd see Chris. Apologize. Try to convince him that…that premarital sex wasn't bad…

Lyla made a sound of distress, throwing her pen into the notebook, leaning forward and shoving her hands through her hair. This was ridiculous! Stop thinking about Chris, she screamed at herself.

He thought she was tainted, that's what it was, she was sure of it. The perfect little girl was not so perfect. Yeah, she'd yelled at him, when he'd flat out accused her of liking the attention that Tim had been throwing at her for much of the school year. Yeah, I love the attention, because at least someone is seeing me for what I am! A red-blooded American female who was attractive and who valued things in a relationship like sex.

"You like him flirting with you because he's dangerous," Chris had accused her, standing outside of the radio station, where she'd been putting in much of her time off. Helping people was what she wanted to do. He'd told her that he just didn't think it was good for them to be together, if she wanted that danger and courted it.

She'd seen right through it, laughing at him. "I'm done with this Chris! I'm sorry, but I can't keep doing this with you if you can't trust me."

"Maybe I can't," he'd said, when she wouldn't acknowledge that she enjoyed the slight…inappropriateness of accepting Tim's attention. Ignoring her explanations that she'd known him since elementary school and if you just accepted what he was giving you and didn't give him a reaction, he'd go away. He had. He didn't get the reaction he wanted, so he stopped stalking her and trying to emotionally manipulate her.

Come to think of it, she hadn't heard from him in awhile. He could have fallen off the face of the earth for all she knew.

That's what it ultimately boiled down to though, she thought, tapping her pen on the notebook. She reached over for her coffee, taking a long sip. It burned her throat.

Chris didn't trust her.

Maybe he shouldn't have.

Lyla ran her tongue over her teeth. She really needed to get back home. Mom was going to kill her if she woke up again and found her missing. It had become a habit, for the last couple of weeks. She couldn't sleep, so she'd go running as far and as fast as she could or she'd get in her car and just drive until she stopped.

What am I doing….where am I going…the same two questions that just rotated in her mind constantly.

She climbed off the hood again, putting everything into the car and climbing in, starting the engine. She backed out of the short little driveway in front of a gate, onto the two-lane road, and headed back towards town.

As she drove, she listened to the breeze whistling through her open windows, her hair blowing in her eyes. She didn't have music on. Just her thoughts.

Senior year. Vanderbilt. That order.

No Chris Kennedy to split her focus. She was a little upset that the radio station had fallen away; it was too awkward to be there with him still running the program. She liked helping people and giving advice. Maybe she'd make a career out of it. She did have to start thinking of a focus for school.

Lyla tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel, sighing. "School. Vanderbilt," she repeated to herself. Like she'd try something different.

I wonder what Tim's doing.

The thought was so random that she almost drove off the side of the road.

She cursed herself inwardly, rolling her eyes. Talk about splitting focus.

They'd seen each other a few weeks ago, at Jason's house, when his parents had a little party to welcome Noah Street, their first grandchild into the world. It had been so surreal, to see Jason holding a newborn baby, beaming in his wheelchair, the happiest he'd ever been.

Even when he was with me.

They were still friends, even if they didn't talk. They had no reason to talk, which was sad, because she still considered him a good friend. Her first kiss, her first love, her first everything.

Tim had been there and they'd kind of split off from the rest of the group. They were still in high school, they didn't understand the idea of having a baby and Jason was talking about trying to find a job and Erin was talking about what it was like to be a mother and just…it was surreal, that was all she could think of it as.

She scanned the relatively empty streets, frowning at a figure turning a corner, running hard and fast, wearing a sweat-soaked gray muscle tee and blue Panther shorts.

It was Tim.

Well speak of the devil. Literally.

Lyla sped up a little, coming to a coast beside him. "Tim!" she called out the window, trying to keep the car up with his pace. She glanced forward every few seconds, to make sure she didn't crash into anyone. "Hey!"

He ignored her, running a little faster. His hair was tied back from his face, which was strange for her; she'd never seen him wear it like that before. The white wire from his earbuds was plugged into the ipod strapped to his arm, bouncing against his shoulder.

She honked her horn, yelling. "Tim!"

It finally sunk in and he jumped, startled, grabbing for the earbuds. He stopped hard, turning to look at her as she slammed her brakes. He frowned. "Garrity?" he asked, surprised. He shook his head, frowning harder. "What are you doing here?"

"Driving."

"It's seven."

Was it? She glanced at the clock on her dashboard. "Suppose it is," she said. That had her frowning. The hell? "What are you doing? It's seven!" she shouted, incredulous. She shook her head. "Did you go to sleep yet?"

"I went to sleep, I can't sleep." He rolled his eyes, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his neighborhood. "Mindy Collette and Billy are screwing each other now."

"Disgusting."

"Tell me about it," he said, smiling briefly. He licked his lips, gesturing again with his hand to the road. His voice softened. "Better get back to running."

"I heard you're taking Smash's place as tailback," she blurted out. It was just something she'd overheard her father talking about, last week when he'd picked them up to take them bowling. It had been a refreshing topic than from Mom and Kevin's hippie wedding.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah," he drawled. "Heard something about that too."

"That why you're running? Practicing for those long sprints to the endzone?" she teased.

Tim smiled quickly. "No. I'm running because I can't sleep because Mindy is…"

"Screwing Billy, yeah, I heard," she murmured, still smiling at him. It was surprisingly good to see him. He looked no worse for the wear than he'd been at Jason's party. She ran her tongue over her teeth. This was…she felt a warm feeling in her stomach again.

Damnit Garrity. It was Tim Riggins.

He took a few steps away from her car, lifting his hand up a little in a wave goodbye. "See around Garrity. You should probably…get back to saving puppies and lost souls."

Yeah, I don't seem to be very good at it though.

She bit her tongue, watching him start to jog off.

Damnit.

Lyla threw the car into park, opening the door and climbing out, running after him. "Hey, Tim! Wait!" She came to a stop, her hands going to her hips. She bit her lip again, looking up into his hazel eyes.

He was genuinely curious, looking down at her. "Yeah?"

"You don't…call or write or anything…how do I even know you're alive?" she asked. She flashed a grin. "I haven't seen you since Jason's party…that was like three weeks ago."

"I've been around." He seemed annoyed now. His brow furrowed again and his voice dropped, husky. "You said you wanted me to stop going after you. I did. Go back with Bible Boy."

Now he was really annoyed.

Yeah, I know, I'm…not very good at this whole thing, she thought, closing her eyes and sighing, her hands on her hips. She shook her head, mumbling, glancing down at the ground. The toe of her cowboy boot dug into the dirt. "I broke up with him like two months ago." Before Jason's party, even. She was surprised he hadn't noticed, but then again, he'd stopped with his relentless quest to woo her heart.

It had been sort of nice. To have someone want you that much. Especially after the year she'd had, where it seemed like she was constantly getting thrown aside. Where it was about everyone else's feelings but hers.

She bit her lip hard. He was a good guy. An idiot, sometimes, but...she knew he was a great guy, actually. Lyla closed her eyes, whispering. "I'm sorry."

I really am sorry. I just…don't know what's been going on with me.

Tim pursed his lips. "Sorry?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, okay? Sorry for what I said to you and how I treated you all last year. You were just being nice." I still have to defend myself though, she thought, scowling. "You just did it in a not great way Tim. It wasn't cool to show up at the radio station all the time and to constantly ask about me and Chris and…and to just…"

"Fine," he interrupted. He waved his hands, like he was calling a play as safe or something. "Apology accepted, can I go now Ms. Garrity or is this detention still going on?"

Detention? Is that how I seem to you? Like the teacher punishing you for doing something wrong? She rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. "Tim, I'm just trying here!"

"Trying to do what?" he exclaimed. He shook his head, reaching to push his earbud into his ear. "I gotta' go. I'll see you around."

Wait!

I don't know where I'm going, she thought, running after him again and grabbing his upper arm, turning him towards her. She peered at him, her eyes wide…scared even. I feel alone. I'm sorry if this just…she bit her lip again. "My mom actually married Kevin and they're talking about moving to California," she whispered.

That got his attention.

The earbud fell from his fingers, draping over his chest. He scuffed the bottom of his tennis shoe on the gravel, sighing hard. "You're moving?" he mumbled.

"I don't know." I don't want to move. It's just something she'd overheard them talking about recently. California. Yeah, it wasn't Texas, but…she wasn't sure she wanted to leave so soon to senior year. There was so much to do now, let alone if she was in a new school in a new state.

He bit his lip a little, before licking his lips, shrugging. "You want to talk?"

I don't know. She swallowed hard, whispering and looking up at him. "You want to come shower at my place? Away from Mindy and Billy and the disgustingness?"

He shrugged. "Need some clothes."

"I can wash those while you shower." What the hell are you doing Garrity, she thought, lifting her eyes up to his. What about no distractions? Senior year and then Vanderbilt? No more boys.

Boys were bad news for her.

Jason, Tim, Chris…all of them, bad news.

He lifted an eyebrow, whispering. "What about your mom and brother and sister?"

Lyla shrugged again, breathing. "They're still sleeping. It's seven, you know."

He quirked his lip, walking by her to her car, pointing his finger in her direction. "I'll listen to you now Garrity, but if you take advantage of me…"

"Oh shut up."

"I'm just saying, I'm not supposed to take rides from strangers."

"I'm not giving you candy Tim."

"You're still bribing me."

She laughed, climbing into the driver's side and started her car, driving away towards her house. They'd go in the front door and just run upstairs, no one would be awake anyway.

They drove in comfortable silence back to her house and went inside without saying anything; the house was actually empty, to her surprise. She let Tim go upstairs to the bathroom; he knew his way.

Lyla picked up the note her mom had tacked to the fridge, scanning the writing about how they'd all gone to breakfast at a new vegan restaurant a couple towns away and would be back in early afternoon, after they stopped at a farmer's market. "We have big news to discuss, so don't go too far!" her mom had written at the bottom of the piece of paper. "Love you!"

Big news.

They were moving to California, she thought, shaking her head. It was all but done anyway. Her mother wanted nothing to do with Dillon anymore, not now that she was Pamela O'Neill, Kevin the Hippie's wife, and no longer connected in any way shape or form to being Pamela Garrity, scorned wife of Buddy.

She crumpled the note, throwing it on the ground in disgust. Her feet carried her up the stairs, down the hall and into her room, where she leaned on the bathroom door. Tim's dirty clothes were sitting in a pile outside the door and she heard the water pouring from the shower inside.

Don't do it.

We're moving, what does it matter?

Her hand touched the doorknob and she bit her lower lip, letting go like she got burned. She grabbed the clothes, hurrying downstairs to the laundry room and threw them in with the stuff she planned on washing later. She returned upstairs to her room, hunting around for something for him to wear in the meantime.

She located a t-shirt and pair of gym shorts that Jason had left behind ages before; they probably wouldn't really fit him, but they'd make do.

I really didn't think this through, she thought, sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands primly folded in her lap. She ran her tongue over her teeth, turning her head slowly when the water shut off.

We're moving. What does it matter?

What are you doing Lyla, she felt her inner voice ask. Distractions are not what you need. Especially a Riggins distraction.

Although maybe that was exactly what she needed.

She could kill several birds with one stone, so to speak. This…aching need for some sort of release…mental and physical. A distraction from her stupid parents. From probably having to move to California.

The bathroom door opened and she turned her head quickly, glancing at him leaning against her doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair mostly still wet but already drying. He nodded towards her, his brow wrinkling in concern. "You okay?"

"Fine," she blurted. She shrugged, whispering, trying not to let her frown belie her emotions. "Why?"

He took a few steps towards her, shrugging, his voice quiet. "You just got a lot going on."

I do have a lot going on, thanks for noticing, she thought sarcastically. She shrugged again, stiffening when he came to sit beside her on the bed. He radiated heat. Her throat went dry and she closed her eyes, whispering. "My mom and everyone probably won't be back for awhile."

Your move.

He turned his head, staring at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she answered. She bit her lip hard again. A tiny smile pulled on her lips. "Your clothes won't be ready for about an hour."

"Yeah?"

That the only word you can say, she wondered, seeing the smile flirting on his lips. He leaned in, pausing before he reached her lips. What, she wanted to snap, sighing hard. Her fingers went to his forearm, reaching to tug it around her at the same moment she just went for it, kissing him hard.

Wow, she thought a second later, her eyes opening and seeing spots. She hadn't been breathing, she realized, her lips throbbing. She licked them, which did nothing to soothe. Tim closed his eyes briefly, smiling. "Garrity, I swear if you try to stop this now…"

Shut up.

Just shut up before I think this through a little better.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, turning his face away from her, making a move to stand up. "Forget it."

No way.

In one swift move, she grabbed his face, knocking him back onto the bed and threw the towel aside.


	2. Distraction

**Chapter 2: Distraction**

"Wow."

"I know."

"Wow."

She sat up on her elbows, pursing her lips to keep from smiling too broadly. Tim had an overinflated ego in this department anyway; she didn't need to make it worse. She peered down to where his head was at the foot of the bed, his arm slung over the side and a pillow tugged beneath his arm.

Tapping her foot up and down, she sat up a little farther against her headboard, taking the other pillow from behind her and hugging it. Yeah. Wow. Understatement.

Tim scrambled up, moving beneath the comforter and popping out beside her, throwing the pillow behind his head. "Hi," he said, smiling up at her.

She giggled. It was like she was this stupid little virgin again, looking at Jason, the both of them wondering what they just did. "Hi," she replied, keeping her voice soft.

He leaned up, kissing her again. She smiled, unable to continue kissing because she started to giggle again. "What did I do to you?" he laughed as she covered her face with the pillow, disappearing beneath the comforter to keep laughing. This was so embarrassing! She had no idea why the giggle fit was happening.

I just…Tim and I…again…this time there wasn't some other circumstance around it. The first time he hadn't stayed. She'd woken up and he was gone and she decided to run to his house. To just…talk. They ended up not talking.

Now? Now she didn't want to talk again, but…it just seemed so silly to her that she'd been pushing him away for so long and now here they were, right where he wanted her from the beginning of last year. And where she vowed she wouldn't be. I won't be one of the many conquests of Tim Riggins.

Don't think about that right now, she thought, lowering the comforter to smile up at him. He was just looking down at her, frowning slightly. "You didn't do anything to me," she said, giggling. She reached up, lowering his face back to hers. She mumbled against his lips, still grinning so wide she could feel her cheeks beginning to hurt. Her eyes stared straight into his hazel ones. "Well…" She widened her eyes a little, still giggling. "You did some stuff to me, obviously, but…you didn't break me or anything."

"Well that's good," he laughed.

She smiled, kissing him again. She rolled onto her back, bringing him with her. After another moment, he separated from her, rolling back onto his side, while she stared up at the ceiling. Now what?

Tim seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "So," he announced, waving his fingers between the both of them. "What's this mean?"

I don't know. Does it have to mean anything?

She shrugged, leaning in to him, her leg slinging over his waist. Sex had been good between them the first time. Part of her thought it was the illicitness of it all. The sneaking around and the cheating. Another part of her just thought it was her need for emotional release. To just do something that wasn't think about Jason or his accident or how she was going to deal with it.

Now? Now they were both free of anyone else. They could do this as long as they felt like it and not have to worry about another person finding out. Well, another boyfriend or girlfriend, because she wasn't sure she wanted to scream from the rooftops that her and Tim were back in the saddle again.

Distraction.

She didn't need them, but maybe…maybe hse did.

Lyla stretched her arms over him, her fingers tangling with his, mumbling against his lips. "I think we're moving to California."

"You said that."

She rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers falling down to cover his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was very steady. Her eyes fell shut a little; it was so soothing.

Tim's fingers tangled in her hair, before falling down to the small of her back. She nuzzled into his neck again, murmuring. "Can you just stay here for a few minutes more?" Don't leave just yet.

"Why would I leave?"

She rolled her eyes, sitting up on her elbow, peering down at his curious expression. You're Tim Riggins. I'm probably one of many on the roster today. Not that I want to be. Or plan to be. She lifted her shoulder, shrugging silently. After a second, she whispered. My jealousy is showing, she thought, hearing it in her voice. "I don't know, you might have a threeway to get to."

It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't take it like one.

He said nothing, his eyes darting around her room and a muscle ticking in his jaw. He sighed hard, turning his head back towards her, whispering. "When it comes to you Garrity, I'm a one woman kind of guy."

She smiled quickly. That was nice. Even if it…it kind of indicated that he wanted something more from this. He had all last year. Trying to get her to go out with him again. Saying he was in love with her. You don't love me, you just love the idea of me.

The only girl you couldn't get. The only girl who was off limits. The only girl who doesn't put up with your shit.

Now that you got me, how do I know that you won't just leave?

And besides, I might not stick around.

She sighed hard, glancing down at him. "I might be moving. It's senior year." This could really just be one time. Just a fling. A couple of days together to scratch an itch, whatever it was she just did with him.

Her lips pursed. "Maybe this could just be…summertime…whatever."

A look crossed his face. Lyla pulled back, surprised. She said nothing, because he said nothing. The frown, the slight flare of his nostrils as he sighed, and the narrowing of his eyes. She knew what that look was.

He was disappointed.

He didn't want this to be a summertime fling. She nibbled on her lower lip, whispering. "Or…we just see where this goes." Slowly. Very slowly.

He smiled, reaching to pull her face down to his for another kiss, whispering. "Works for me."

Lyla giggled, mumbling against his lips. "I need to go switch the laundry."

"I'll be waiting with bells on."

She climbed out of the bed, pulling her robe on and tying it around her waist, leaving the bedroom, ensuring she closed the door behind her. She went down to the laundry room, switching the clothes to the dryer and stopped off in the kitchen to snag a bottle of water, taking several long sips.

Once she rehydrated, she jogged back upstairs, going into the bedroom, stopping in her tracks.

Tim smiled, dangling a necklace in his fingers. He jingled it up and down, the bells ringing loudly. "What are you doing?" she giggled, closing the door behind her. She walked towards the bed, climbing back onto it, taking the necklace.

"I have bells on."

The jewelry box on her dresser was open, bracelets and necklaces falling from it as he'd obviously had to root around. She chuckled, taking the necklace and draping it around his neck, leaning in to kiss him again, pushing him back onto the pillows. "You do have bells on, don't you?"

"Yeah, but take them off, because I'm not going to wear a necklace."

Lyla threw the bells aside, draping herself back over him, smiling against his lips. It felt so good. She was surprised, although she supposed she shouldn't have been. It was good before. It was good now. It was different.

She'd only been with two guys. Jason and him. Two very, very different people and she felt…with Jason she felt like a princess. With Tim, she felt like the boss. Felt like she was…not equal. Not like she was unequal to Jason. Jason took care of her and she liked it that way, until she had to take care of him. Tim was just…Tim.

A summertime fling.

It wasn't something she wanted, but…she broke away from the kiss, leaning into the pillows, still in her robe. He frowned a little, whispering. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" She shrugged, staring up at the ceiling. It was just a guess, that they were moving, but…she didn't know if…if it was the best time. For her, at least, if they were moving. Her voice faded. "I think if we move, I just…I don't really want to go just yet."

Last year she'd have jumped at the chance. Now…it didn't make sense for her.

"Maybe you could stay with your dad."

Maybe. That wasn't the first option. He'd been lonely since Santiago moved back to be with his parents in Mexico, but she really didn't have that much sympathy for the man. He'd shown himself to her to at least have one decent bone in his body, by taking on the task of being Santiago's guardian.

But still…she didn't want to think about it right now.

Hell I don't even know if we are moving.

Tim kissed her jaw, murmuring. "So how much time do we have?"

"Thirty minutes," she teased.

"What could we do in thirty minutes?" he sang, lifting his eyebrows, leaning back down to kiss her, grinning. "Twice?"

Oh my God, she laughed, her arm tightening around his neck, accepting the kisses he bestowed upon her, before he made his way down her neck, pulling at her robe. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, smiling as the robe fell away.

Lyla Garrity you are getting yourself into trouble, she thought, gasping and opening her eyes when his lips trailed down over her stomach. She gripped at his hair, closing her eyes tight, moaning.

This was such a bad idea, she thought, trying to talk herself out of it. Of letting it get farther than…than just a few weeks. Don't buy into his crap, she recited to herself. Just sex.

That isn't you though. Tim's a monogamist at heart. You can't do this.

But I can, she thought, grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him onto his back and taking control. She smiled wide. I can do what I want.

The last two years she'd been fighting with herself over what she wanted. What she could have. What was acceptable. What do you want Lyla Garrity? You want to be the perfect little girlfriend? The perfect person? You're not either of those things.

And don't let anyone tell you otherwise or blame you for it.

You can have whatever you want.

Lyla forgot that her mother and siblings would be home soon, she forgot that she only had about thirty minutes, and she just focused on what she wanted. Just her and no one else.

And what I want right now is Tim Riggins.


	3. Decisions, Decisions

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews! It may not seem like it from these first two chapters, but other characters make their appearances, starting with this chapter. Hope you enjoy! This is fun for me, writing the high-school Tim and Lyla, since I usually focus on future stories. Hope this fits in with the show! Enjoy! :)

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**Chapter 3: Decisions, Decisions**

Hell I'm glad I decided to go on that run.

Probably one of the better decisions he'd made in awhile.

Getting with Garrity again sure beat trying to turn up the volume on his headphones as loud as physically possible to avoid hearing things from Billy's bedroom that no one ever needed to hear.

Tim tugged on his running shoes, lifting his eyes up as he tied the laces to watch Lyla dress, stepping into her jeans delicately. She reached for a t-shirt on the chair beside him, at the same time he reached for his other sock, their fingers brushing.

She smiled quickly, letting go of his hand and grabbed her shirt. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"You're fine," he mumbled, pulling on the sock and grabbing the other shoe. He tossed his hair out of his eyes, frowning a little. Was she regretting this? He really hoped not. He just…it was funny.

He'd spent most of last year trying to win her back, ignoring her protests to just leave him alone, going to her church, and putting up with watching her with Teeth and Hair, as he called Chris Kennedy. He had been moping around one weekend, drinking because she'd politely asked him again if he could stop working at the radio station because it was just too awkward for her with Chris and she was seriously trying here.

"If you really say you love me," she'd told him, outside of the biology lab at school after Christmas break, her brow wrinkled, and her voice quiet. "Then please just stop trying to win me over Tim. It's not working. It's just pathetic. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

And he could tell she hated having to say it like that and she looked so miserable that he agreed and he stopped.

So he'd been moping, Jason had come over to mope about his girl problems, since Erin wouldn't tell him when she had doctors' appointments and wouldn't take the money that he was trying to give her.

"Get over it Riggins," he'd yelled, rightfully having enough of his shit. "If she loves you she'll come around. You're acting like a little girl. I'm sick of it. I have real problems. I can't deal with your pathetic ones."

That was the second person in a day to call him pathetic.

So he'd quit going after her. He'd let her have her Teeth and Hair. Her radio station. He still listened to her, knowing that she took great pride in helping people who needed it. Stopped going to her church. Returned to Rally Girls and drinking at eight in the morning.

Even if it didn't feel good. Made him sicker.

And lo' and behold, he went for a run at six in the morning, which he never did; ran all around Dillon, and almost crashed right into her. Obviously on the right day for her to finally agree to doing this.

Even if she did have a lot going on.

Now look at us, he thought, lifting his eyes again to watch her. He leaned over his knees, frowning slightly. Was she regretting this, he thought again. Her forehead hadn't smoothed over since she'd gotten out of bed to go get his clothes from the dryer and telling him that maybe they should stop, because her family would be home soon and she didn't want them to catch him here.

Yeah, he didn't want them to catch him either.

Pamela Garrity hated him and Buddy could only handle him on a football field.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, frowning slightly, his eyes downcast. It had been so quick. One minute he was just looking at her and the next she was kissing him. Her behavior on the side of the road had been weird too. All that apologizing and…confusion.

I hope you don't move, he thought. I hope this isn't because you think you'll never see me again or something.

I hope you don't think this is a mistake.

He stood up, wiping his hands on his muscle tee. "Um, I'm gonna' go," he said, jerking his thumb to the door.

"Yeah, I'll give you a ride."

"I can run." Even though he was exhausted. He'd just hitch, it wouldn't be a big deal. He didn't live too far from here. She'd run to his house once, now it was his turn to run from hers.

"Don't be silly." Lyla grabbed her car keys, leaving the room and closing the door. She walked down the stairs, opening up the front door at the exact moment that her father was raising his knuckles to knock.

Tim froze, seeing Buddy Garrity on the threshold. He took an immediate step sideways from Lyla, glancing at her reaction. She was just gaping. Until she covered quickly. "Daddy, what's going on?"

"It's my afternoon with you guys, didn't you remember?"

"Ah…" Lyla shook her head quickly. "Um…Tabby and Buddy Junior are with Mom and Kevin at some farmer's market." Her voice dropped instantly. "I didn't know they were going."

Why do you have to make excuses for them, Tim wondered, lifting his eyes back to Buddy, who hadn't yet noticed his presence. Maybe he could get through this without him noticing.

Doubtful.

Buddy scowled, his large face beginning to turn pink. "What do you mean they're at some farmer's market? I get you guys every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon during the summer, we agreed, it was like that last week and all summer long, why is today any different?! I'm calling your mother."

"Daddy," Lyla begged, stepping out of the house onto the porch, reaching to touch his wrist lightly, forcing him to stop dialing on his cell phone. He lifted his face to peer at her. She shook her head, sighing hard. "Daddy, please…I'll…I'll go with you, okay? I'll stay with you this afternoon, just stop fighting."

That was very hard for her to do, Tim knew. He knew she wasn't doing well with her father. He stepped out onto the porch, the movement breaking Buddy's concentration from staring silently at Lyla.

"Tim Riggins," Buddy exclaimed, startled at his appearance.

It was funny to Tim how that's how Buddy greeted him a lot of the time. By his full name, like there was some other Tim running around Dillon who could be mistaken with him. He forced a quick smile. "Mr. Garrity," he replied.

Buddy glanced between Lyla and him, his frown returning. "What are you doing with Lyla?" he asked, suspicious.

"I…" Tim wasn't sure what he was planning on saying. Say something about…she picked you up on the side of the road. Something Lyla Garrity did a lot with him, apparently.

Garrity, smooth as ever, cleared her throat, her arms crossed over her chest, speaking quietly. "I was helping Tim with his summer reading. You know he has to keep his grades up, if we wants to take us to state," she drawled, lifting her eyes to his. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched, almost clear to her hairline. "Right Tim?"

"Yes," he answered, smoothly folding into the lie. He ran his hand over his hair. "I was getting tutored."

Very, very well, he thought, lifting his eyebrow at Lyla, who just rolled her eyes. He smiled. Buddy just continued to frown at the both of them. "I should get to the stadium," he said.

"And I will drive you," Lyla said.

Buddy shook his head, walking away from the house. "I'll drive you Tim. Lyla, I'll take you up on that offer, maybe we can go find this farmer's market and give your mother a piece of my mind."

Lyla closed her eyes, not saying anything. She went back to the house, returning a moment later with her purse and a jacket, turning to lock the door behind her. She gave him a look, whispering "Sorry" as they walked side by side to Buddy's Suburban.

It's okay, Tim thought, about to climb into the backseat after Lyla when he turned at the sound of a car horn honking loudly. He lifted his head, seeing a matching Suburban pull into the driveway, a very angry Mrs. Garrity, or whatever she was going by these days, climbing out the driver's side.

"Buddy what do you think you are doing?!"

"It's Tuesday during the summer Pam or did you forget the custody arrangement? At least Lyla remembered!"

Pam shouted back to Buddy that he could go to hell and shove the custody arrangement, because…Tim closed his eyes, cringing. "I'm taking the kids to California! Kevin and I bought a farm and this was not how I wanted to break the news to them, but like everything Buddy, you have to ruin it all!"

Buddy sputtered, his face now a dangerous shade of tomato red. He jabbed his finger at her shoulder, pushing her back from him. "You're not taking my children to some hippie state two thousand miles away!"

"Don't you touch me again or I'll call the police! In fact, I'm calling them now, you're on my property!"

"The property that I pay the mortgage on every month! How do you like that Kevin? That make you a man? Living in a house that another man's hard-earned dollars pays for?" Buddy shouted, storming up the driveway to the front door, where Kevin had already disappeared through, followed shortly by Pam, trying to usher in Buddy Junior and Tabby.

And everyone forgot Lyla, sitting in the backseat of the car, not looking out at the fighting, but staring down at her fingernails, picking her thumbnail with her index finger.

Tim tuned out Buddy and Pamela fighting as best as he could, shouting about custody and moving to California, turning his head towards Lyla. Poor thing. He didn't want to pity her, because that was the last thing she'd want, but…she was trying very hard to be the strong one.

Lyla glanced at him, frowning. "What?" she snapped.

Nothing. He shook his head, saying nothing. She rolled her eyes, climbing out of the backseat. "Come on, they're going to do this for awhile."

"Garrity."

Lyla walked around the back of the SUV to her car, unlocking the front door. She flung it open, shouting at both of her parents. "If the two of you can hear me, listen up! I'm not moving to California Mom and Dad, stop being such a baby!"

Pam pointed to them, her eyes wide. "Is that Tim Riggins?!"

"Yes it is Pam, so what, our daughter is helping him with class!"

"I do not want you hanging with Tim, Lyla Mary Garrity, do you hear me!?" Pam shouted. She wagged her finger at him. "I know you can hear me Tim! You stay away from my daughter! I am not having her heart broken again!"

"Get in the car Tim," Lyla ordered.

He ducked down in the passenger side, frowning slightly. Maybe Mrs. Garrity had a point. It wasn't like he was the most loved boy in the city of Dillon when it came to the girls. Most parents warned away from him.

Lyla shoved her sunglasses on, turning towards him as she backed out of the driveway. "Ignore them," she mumbled, jerking the gearshift up into drive, hitting the accelerator and speeding away from the house.

Yeah, easier said than done, he thought, glancing out the window. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat. That wasn't a pretty sight, out there in front of the Garrity house. He glanced at Lyla again. Her jaw was set, her gaze straight forward through the windshield.

"That happen often?" he whispered. He suspected it wasn't a rare occurrence.

"Does what happen often?" she replied, her voice barely audible. She snorted. "The fighting? Yeah. All the time."

He didn't say anything. Sorry wasn't the word to use. He squinted against the sunlight, reaching to turn the earbuds around his iPod. What do you say in something like this? He shrugged, whispering. "Your mom is still mad at me, huh?"

"Forget her."

"Okay." Easier said than done. He sighed hard. This was not going to go easy, he guessed. He was just trying to help. He could see how miserable she was. "You know, we can just stay at my house, if you want. You don't have to go back there until later."

"And do what? Hide under the covers for the rest of the day?" Lyla laughed, shaking her head, whispering. "I can't do that Tim. I have to go back and find out what…what's going to happen to me."

What's going to happen to you? You're going to go back and not let them tell you want to do. He shrugged. "Tell them you're staying."

Lyla turned her car onto his street, hitting the brake hard in front of his house. She turned in her front seat, snapping at him. "And tell them what Tim? I'm staying in Dillon? I'm not going to move to California with my mother and hippie stepfather and my little brother and sister? I'm not going to go with them, because I'm going to stay with the man who destroyed his family and who deserves no sympathy for what he's put us through, who started this whole mess in the first place? Is that what I'm going to do Tim? Because you can do that, but I can't. I have to think about my family."

He wasn't going to sit here and have her yell at him. He climbed out of the car, turning his head and whispering. "Whatever Garrity. Thanks for the ride."

"I'm not done yet!"

"Well I am." He trudged up to the front door, his hand on the doorknob when he heard her storming after him. He sighed, turning, his eyebrow lifting. "Lyla, what?"

She froze. The anger faded from her face, replaced with fear. "I don't want to move," she whispered, her voice tiny. She shook her head quickly. "But I don't want to stay with my dad."

I get that. He pushed open the door, letting the screen door close behind him and stepped towards her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, whispering into her ear. "You don't always have to be the adult, Garrity." That's what adults are for and if they can't act like it…you don't need to pick up their slack.

It's too much for you right now. You're just a kid. Act like it.

She rested her chin on his shoulder. "I really do have to talk to them. I can't stay."

It's cool. He let go of her, kissing her lightly. "Call if you need anything," he whispered. He flashed a smile. "Anything. Help burying a body…"

She smiled, glancing down at the grass. "Thank you," she mumbled. She stepped backwards, turning and going to her car, lifting her hand in a wave.

Bye, he thought, waving back, going into the house. He closed the door behind him, to keep the air conditioning inside. Billy was staring at him from the couch, still looking hungover from the night before. "What?" he snapped. He could feel a lecture.

"Nothing. Just curious."

"Good for you."

"You went for a run at seven and it's like two."

So? "You never tracked me before." Tim went to the fridge, pulling it open and realizing that he was absolutely starving. His other appetite had kind of taken over for a bit there. He grabbed a beer, since that was the only thing in the fridge other than mac and cheese from the other night and it now had a green film on it.

He cracked the cap, tilting his head back and letting the drink pour over his throat for a minute. Tomorrow he had conditioning at the school, so he probably shouldn't be drinking….oh well. Not like he never stopped before, he'd played and won games drunk.

Throwing the cap at Billy, he missed his head by about an inch. Billy scowled at him, turning to the television and flicking the channel. "So are you sleeping with Lyla Garrity yet?" he demanded.

"Are you sleeping with Mindy just to piss me off or something?"

"No, why?" Billy glared at him. "You didn't…"

Just to annoy his brother, he smiled, long and slow. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He'd never even looked at Mindy that way, let alone thought about it, and let alone actually go through with it. Tyra was enough Collette for him and come to think of it, he hadn't talked to her in like two months.

Wonder what's going on with her and Landry, he thought, remembering a rumor he'd heard of them dating. Were they dating? He couldn't bring himself to truly care. Good for Landry if they were.

Billy unfolded himself from the couch, scowling at him and pointing with the can of Coke in his hand. "You're messing with me, aren't you?"

Tim shrugged. He sipped again from the beer, setting it down on the counter and leaning his hands on the edge, smiling. "Wouldn't tell you if I did."

"You're screwing with me."

"Maybe."

Billy waited a beat; Tim knew what was he was going to do before he did it. He screamed, taking off from his brother, flying out the front door as Billy scrambled after him, shouting about how he was going to kill him for trying to mess with his head like that.

He laughed, making it about halfway down the adjacent street before he turned around and went back to the house, allowing Billy to tackle him into the floor and punch him a few times before he fought back, knocking Billy away. "Get off me," he ordered. "I have to keep my face pretty, I'm the new Smash of the team."

"Yeah right. How's that going?"

They ended up talking about football for a few minutes, until Billy's phone rang and he began to talk babytalk with Mindy. Tim wanted to vomit. He thought it was nice that his brother was seeing someone who…well he was surprised they never hooked up before anyway. It seemed to make sense.

More sense than Tyra and I, he thought, getting up from the couch, going into his bedroom and changing into a flannel shirt and jeans. He finished the beer, walking out and grabbing his keys. He picked up the phone on his way to the front door, answering it. "Yeah?"

"It's Jason. You want to come over? I need a drink. Erin won't let me see Noah tonight."

Aw, man, that blew. Jay was going to be in a bad mood. "Sure," he replied. "You want me to pick up something?"

"I'm already on it."

Damn Six. That's not like you. Tim hung up when Jason just dropped the phone without saying goodbye. He left the house, driving over to Jason and Herc's apartment, where Jason's red truck was parked partially on the curb. He cringed, parking beside it and climbing out.

He frowned a little, looking up at the apartment complex. It wasn't too far from the high school. Maybe not the best neighborhood, but it was Dillon. It wasn't like it was Gatlin or something.

It was pretty cheap too.

He shoved his keys into his pocket, walking up to the front door and punching the buzzer for Jason's first-floor apartment. After a second, the door buzzed, popping open. Tim swung it aside, going into the main hall and bypassing Jason's door for the bulletin board next to the mailboxes.

There was a flyer for an apartment available on the third floor starting in the fall. He snagged it down, folding it a few times and shoving it into his back pocket. You never knew.

He went to the door, stopping.

His eyes widened for a minute.

Jason.

Lyla.

Oh man, he didn't think of this…actually happening.

Should he tell him? Maybe he should talk to Lyla about it…but…he closed his eyes briefly, reaching to push open the door, stepping into the apartment. He leaned on the frame, peering around. "Hey," he called.

"Come on in Riggins, I'm on number three."

"Already had number one."

Jason looked up from where he was pouring beer into a glass. He frowned. "Already?"

"Could say the same about you." Tim closed the door, walking over to crash on the couch, picking up a car magazine. He bit his lip hard. He wouldn't mention Lyla. Hell, even she said she wanted it to be…something for the summer. He didn't like that. He didn't want that, but…

Had to start somewhere.

"What's wrong with you?"

He lowered the magazine, glancing at his best friend. "I don't know, what's wrong with me?"

"You seem different. Like…" Jason made a face, tilting his head back and pouring tequila down his throat. He coughed, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. He laughed. "You got laid today. Should have known."

"No I didn't," he blurted out.

"So who was it?"

"Ella Mae Waters."

"No, she's with that second stringer tight end. I saw them at the hardware store practically going at it by the screws and nails, ironically."

Tim thought of some other Rally Girl. He couldn't remember their names. "Um…Jolene something or other."

Jason shook his head again. "No, you think she's too pushy and desperate, plus if you want Lyla Garrity, she can't stand her. She'd never forgive you."

That was true, if it was the same chick he was thinking of. Lyla did hate her, if he remembered right, smiling softly.

"Whoa! What are you thinking about? You're smiling!"

So? I smile. Tim threw the magazine at Jason. "No one."

"You're keeping her secret. You must love her."

Maybe I do.

Jason's eyes widened. "You didn't!"

Didn't what?

"You did!" Jason laughed. He gestured with his beer bottle, smiling. "You finally got Lyla, didn't you? That's the only reason you'd be smiling like that." He laughed again, continuing before Tim could answer. He waved it off almost instantly. "No, you'd have told me for sure. It's the right thing to do. Plus, she was pretty clear she wasn't interested."

Yeah. He guessed. He felt his stomach turn a little. Maybe he should have told him…well what was he going to do? Call him between rounds two and three like a little girl and ask permission? He'd talk to him later about it.

Tim reached for the TV remote, turning the volume up on some fishing program. He snapped his fingers. "Get me a beer."

"I'm not your maid, get off your ass and get it yourself." Jason wheeled himself to the other side of the couch, hoisting himself up and over. He rolled his eyes, throwing his hand aside to the chair. "Have at it. Just don't mess up the foot pedals again, it took forever to get them right last time."

He whooped, diving into the chair and popping a wheely, snagging a beer from the table. He spun around, dropping the chair back to the floor. The apartment was a mess, but there were a few photos scattered here and there of Noah.

Who was a cute kid.

This isn't a night about me, Tim thought, pushing Lyla and her issues from his mind. He got up from the chair, sitting on the other end of the couch, watching the TV and sipping his beer, while Jason lay in silence. Jason sighed hard, whispering. "Erin won't let me see Noah."

He kept quiet, listening to Jason say how he just wanted to be able to see his kid. Tim glanced down at his hands, wrapped around the bottle. He didn't understand that type of problem, but…he knew Jason wasn't waiting on advice. He just wanted to talk and have someone listen.

So Tim listened.

And he kept his thoughts on Lyla to himself.

He'd tell Jason later.


	4. Bright Idea

**Chapter 4: Bright Idea**

This probably wasn't the smartest idea in the world.

But I'm not the smartest guy in the world.

Tim pulled his truck up in front of Lyla's house, glancing sideways at the closed and shuttered door and windows. It seemed like no one was home, but he'd been casing the place for the last hour and waited until her mother drove away, leaving behind Lyla's car in the driveway.

It had been two days since they hooked up and he hadn't heard from her. He wanted to give her some space, but he was also curious at whether she'd decided to follow her family to California.

He hoped this wouldn't be seen as stalking or something.

I knew she'd regret this, he thought idly. He put the car into park, removing his keys and climbing out, walking up the path to the front door. He didn't intend to be long. It was just an idea, he just…wanted to help.

He hated seeing her miserable; the way she looked after that fight in the front yard. Maybe moving would be good, because she could be away from it all. Even if he'd miss her like crazy.

Tim knocked on the door, waiting a moment. He frowned slightly, knocking again when no one answered.

The door swung back a second after the second knock. Lyla leaned on the frame with her right hand, while her left kept the door open. She glanced at him and then over her shoulder into the house. "Bud go upstairs."

"Why?" he heard her brother demand.

"Because I said so, go upstairs."

"Is your boyfriend here or something? Think I'll tell Mom?"

"Go upstairs!" Lyla shouted. She waited a second, before pulling the door back, gesturing silently for him to come inside. She pushed it shut, her voice soft. "What do you want?"

Yeah, she regretted it.

I'll make this quick then, he thought, reaching into his back pocket. He removed the flyer for the empty apartment, unfolding it and gesturing it towards her. She silently took it, her eyes lifting up to his and questioning. He shrugged again. "That's in Jason's building. It's not much, but…figure maybe if you get a job…you could live there for the last year of school. Maybe get that…divorce your parents thing."

What was it called? He couldn't remember, just that Billy had brought papers home for him, after last year, after he'd had those few weeks of being homeless and all…made him sign them, disappeared for a few days, and then came back saying that Dad had signed them and that in effect, he'd just divorced Dad. So Tim could sign and do whatever he wanted, apparently. It was easier for him to do it that way then have Billy be a legal guardian, because they'd have to get Dad to come back for that.

"Emancipation?" she whispered, looking down at the paper. She folded it in half, crossing her arms over her chest. She shrugged, whispering. "Why would I do that?"

I don't know. To stop dealing with the fighting? He shrugged, his hands going into his pockets. He sighed, blowing out the hard breath through pursed lips. He closed his mouth, glancing around the living room. There were already boxes out and some of the shelves were empty.

He returned his gaze to her again. "I don't know Lyla. Maybe because I want to help you." He closed his eyes. This was stupid. I don't need this crap.

"Why?" she whispered. She genuinely seemed confused. She shrugged. "I was so mean to you."

"Maybe I deserved it."

"Tim…" Lyla stepped towards him. She stopped, looking back at the flyer. Her lips pursed, a smile flirting around them. Her eyes lifted to his again. "You got this for me? You thought I might want to live on my own?"

He nodded. "Why not? I do."

"You have Billy."

"I divorced my parents. Billy helped me."

Lyla cocked her head. She frowned again. "You're emancipated? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were busy." With your life. Ignoring me. Joining that church. It's cool. He ran his hand through his hair, shrugging once more. "Look, take the flyer or don't take it, I just thought I'd try to help. You looked like crap the other day and…and I don't think it's fair that your mom and dad are…are doing this stuff."

"It's not fair," she agreed. She sighed, looking back at the flyer. She set it down on her bag, which was sitting on the table next to the front door. "Come here," she whispered, walking towards him, her arms lifting up to go around his shoulders.

Her hands smoothed over his back and she smiled, whispering into his ear. "You're very sweet."

Thanks, he thought, smiling a little. That's nice to say.

He wrapped her up against him, hugging her tight. He brushed his lips over her ear. I don't know what this is between us. Maybe I never did, but I just want you happy Garrity. "So are you guys really moving?" he whispered.

She nodded. Her voice was faraway, like it echoed. "To Napa Valley, yeah. My…my mom got a farm or something, so…we'll be gone in two weeks. She wants to get Tabby and Buddy Junior registered for school." Lyla pulled her face from where she had it resting in his shoulder, her eyes meeting his. She smiled. "I still haven't made up my mind."

"That's why I brought the flyer," he teased. He brushed his lips over hers; she didn't flinch, which he supposed was a good sign. He kissed her a little harder, breaking away after a moment. She was smiling. That was good. "Think about it. If you need a place to crash, I'm always here."

"Yeah," she laughed. Her eyebrows lifted. "That'll go over really well with my parents." She screwed up her face into a serious frown, putting on a fake deep voice. "Mom, Dad, I'm not going to California or living in a tiny apartment in Dillon, because I'm moving in with Tim Riggins!" She laughed out the last few words, grinning. "That'll be great."

Yeah, he thought, smiling slightly. But it's still an option. He thought of her mother, yelling at him the other day to stay away from her. He let go, stepping back, whispering. "I should go, your mom sees me here and there's a problem."

"She can kiss my ass."

Whoa, Garrity. He laughed, his eyes widening. "Wow. That's a new one." And you don't mean it. You love your mom.

Lyla shook her head, whispering. "I'm sick of people telling me what to do Tim. Including move to California. I'm not going. Now I guess it just depends where I'll go if I can't go there."

He nodded, reaching back to hug her again. "See you around Garrity."

"Tomorrow?"

At the door, he turned on his heel, gazing across the front hall towards her, standing at the edge of the carpet in the living room. He frowned. "Tomorrow?"

"You'll see me tomorrow," she said, her voice clear. Her arms crossed over her chest again, pulling her t-shirt tight over her collarbone. The ponytail high on her head swung back and forth like a pendulum when she bounced on her flip flops. Her eyes sparkled and she was grinning wide.

She looked beautiful, he thought briefly. He focused on her words, since she was talking to him. "You'll see me tomorrow. You'll pick me up and take me to the lake. It's supposed to be like a million degrees. You don't have practice or conditioning, right?"

"No, but Billy and I were…" He ran his tongue over his teeth. Billy and him were going to have a Cheeto eating contest, Billy had already bought the family size bags. Forget it. He shrugged. There was still six weeks left to summer before school started. He'd have plenty of time to keep goofing off with his brother. "Practice doesn't start for another three weeks."

"You should probably be conditioning then," she whispered. She curved her lip up in a smile, swaying back and forth. "Right?"

Right. He frowned a little, watching as she stepped slowly towards him. "Yeah," he drawled, smiling and glancing away. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Getting the heart rate up and all that…it's supposed to be good."

"I think I know how to do that," she murmured, brushing her lips over his. She smiled, her fingers lightly digging into the back of his head, curling through his hair. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't call you, it's just…it's been crazy around here."

I understand. He said nothing; kissed her one more time and let go. Her brother was probably spying on them or something. He turned around and went to the front door, smiling again. "See you tomorrow."

"Pick me up at noon."

"I'll be sleeping."

"Forget it. I'll come by to your house."

Tim rolled his eyes, leaving the house. He went back to his truck, drove back home, and proceeded to best Billy in an arm wrestling contest, even though Billy should have been looking for another job, since he quit his millionth one the other day.

He spent most of the evening just chilling out; parties lately were so boring. Bunch of freshman who couldn't hold their liquor. Or Saracen or Landry, neither of whom could drink with the best of them.

At some point in the night, he swore he heard his bedroom window open. He blinked awake, glancing sideways to the window. He shifted in the comforter, hugging it against him. "What are you doing?" he mumbled, his voice scratchy.

"Thought I'd see what the fuss was about, climbing in windows."

He chuckled into the pillow, sitting up and waiting for Lyla to close the window behind her. She stripped down to her bra and underwear, taking one of his flannel shirts and tugging it on, doing some of the buttons up before climbing into the bed beside him.

She snuggled in against him, murmuring. "Thought I'd save us both the trouble of meeting tomorrow."

"Where does your mom think you are?"

"My dad's."

Really? And she believed that? Tim said nothing, his arm going around Lyla's shoulders. He smiled a little, whispering. "And your dad?"

"Thinks I'm with Mom."

Nice.

Lyla licked her lips, whispering. "I'm going to talk to them about the apartment idea tomorrow. Thank you."

Yeah, no problem. Happy to help.

"And I…I researched the whole emancipation thing…I think if they let me get the apartment, that I could do that and…and it might be okay. I'll go to college next year so it wouldn't be a big deal and…" she sighed. Her hand squeezed his, whispering. "I think I can convince them."

Good.

"You know, it's weird…last year I'd have wanted to run as fast as possible from here, but…I don't want to go now." She rested her chin on his shoulder, breathing deep for a moment. She smiled into his neck. "Thank you for going running the other morning."

Yeah. That was a good decision.

But you'd have come back to me Garrity.

So you don't think this is a mistake, was another thought that crossed his mind. He didn't say anything; didn't want to bring it up or make her mad or something. He'd just see where it went from here.

Whether it was a summer thing or not.

He kissed the top of her head, turning a little toward his side of the bed so she could lie closer against him. They both said nothing, falling asleep without saying another word.


	5. Friendship

**Chapter 5: Friendship**

"Tim stop it!"

Lyla screamed again when he threw water up onto the dock spraying her as she tried to tan. She picked up a mask and snorkel sitting beside her, throwing it to knock him in the head.

"Hey thanks, I wanted these anyway."

"I live to serve," she replied, her voice dry. She arched an eyebrow, turning her magazine down, glancing at him in the water, floating on his back, and blowing water out of his mouth like a fountain. She wrinkled her nose. "Tim that water's dirty."

A moment later, she yelped again, as he squirted water back on her again. She threw the magazine down, kicking water at him as he giggled, diving back beneath the water. "Stop it, I'm trying to make up for lost time, I haven't been outside much this year."

Not like he heard her. He was probably halfway across the lake to the boat with a bunch of cougars partying on it.

"Talking to yourself Garrity?"

Lyla spun around, staring at Tyra, who was standing beside Julie, both of them wearing bathing suits and carrying towels and large tote bags full of magazines and candy; she could see the Twizzlers bag sticking out of Tyra's bag. "Ah…no," she answered, glancing down at the lake.

They hadn't spoken in the last…three days or whatever it was that the two of them had been together, about other people knowing. She was sure she wanted to keep it quiet.

God forbid her father find out.

I don't even know what we are. Or will be.

She pushed her thoughts from her mind, focusing on the fact that Tyra and Julie were still looking at her like she was crazy. She shrugged. "So what are you guys doing here?" she asked.

"It's like a million degrees and Landry and Matt are at the pool," Julie said, like that explained everything, turning away and going to the beach to set up, leaving Tyra behind.

Tyra shrugged at Lyla's frown. "Forget it. We're trying to avoid them. It's a long story." She rolled her eyes, shrugging. Her choppy blond hair was tucked back from her face in a stubby ponytail, but strands of it still fell across her forehead. She pushed a piece of it behind her ear, slightly distracted. "You wanna'…come sit with us?"

"Um…"

Lyla was about to politely decline when she heard gasping coming from the water and splashing. "I can't hold my breath that long anymore, forget it," Tim said, hoisting himself out of the lake.

Tyra just stared, her eyes wide. "What were you doing?" she finally laughed, pointing down to the water. She stared at the water and then back to him again. "You were under there the whole time!?"

"Three minutes," Tim gasped, leaning over his knees, taking deep breaths. He slapped her on the back. "Garrity. Water."

"Get it yourself." She rolled her eyes, her arms crossed. So much for keeping it a secret. Now Tyra would tell Julie who would tell her mother who would tell Coach who would mention it to Buddy. It was a game of telephone. The only question was how long it would take, an hour or a day.

She was thankful that Tim probably didn't want anyone to know about them either; it made things awkward for him with her father at the football field and with Jason.

Aw, crap! Jason! She hadn't even thought of that hurdle. Later, later, she told herself. So many things to think about.

Tyra arched an eyebrow. "So you guys are friends now?" She smiled sweetly. "That's nice."

"What about you and Landry?" Tim demanded. He capped the water bottle in his hands, his eyes not breaking from Tyra's. "Heard that you broke his heart, he was getting drunk with some Rally Girls last weekend."

A look of hurt crossed Tyra's face. "Landry wouldn't do that," she mumbled, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear.

But you think he might, Lyla thought, feeling a little sorry for Tyra. It sucked breaking up with someone, even if it was your choice. She still felt like crap sometimes for breaking up with Jason or Chris, even if both those situations were just…they weren't healthy. You still wondered if you couldn't fix something or if it was worth it all anyway.

Tyra shifted her bag on her shoulder again. "You know Tim, this is your last year, you think you'd start caring about things other than Rally Girls, besides, not like you weren't sleeping with half of them when we were dating."

Oh come on, Lyla thought, closing her eyes briefly. "Guys," she mumbled.

Tim smiled quickly. "Your sister needs to stop spending the night, a guy needs to sleep. I have practice."

"Hey, at least your brother isn't at my house walking around naked or in his nasty little bikini briefs."

Yeah, that wasn't a pretty picture, Lyla thought, having woken up this morning to Billy cooking in his bikini briefs and singing to Prince. The image was forever burned in her memory.

"At least your sister isn't walking around the house in her pasties and platform heels."

"Yeah, well either way, I come out of this situation much better if my sister stays at your house," Tyra said, stepping back from them both, her flip flops making a suction noise against the wet dock. She smiled again, wagging her finger between the two of them, her brow wrinkling. "I didn't know you guys were…"

"We're not," Lyla said at the exact time Tim said "Not happening."

Well that wasn't suspicious.

And Tyra knew it.

Please don't say anything, Lyla begged silently, hoping she could impart that on Tyra. She folded her arms over her chest again. "Well, Tim, maybe we could go back to the pool or something, it's getting really hot out here?"

"Naw, that place is too busy."

"Julie and I are going to move down that way," Tyra said, gesturing to the other side of the lake, which was pretty empty. She smiled again, but it was still more than knowing. "So…friends?"

"Friends," they both said at once.

God, we have got to stop doing that, she thought, closing her eyes briefly. She opened them a second later, seeing Tyra walking backwards from them, giving a little finger wave and dropping her sunglasses back down to her nose.

Lyla waited until Tyra was gone before she turned, lightly smacking Tim's wet chest. "Now she knows, thanks a lot."

"Me? You were the one who was so obvious."

"And you and Tyra were flirting." That bugged her. The constant back and forth. She felt her stomach twist a little in her stomach. The two of them were better suited for each other; she didn't understand why they didn't just start dating again. Deep down they dealt things the same way, they had the same type of family life…they were better suited.

She sat back down in her lawn chair, stretching her feet in front of her. She stared at the sun shining off her sparkly pink toenail polish. It was impractical, but she liked the sparkles.

Tim sat down on the dock beside her, crossing his legs Indian-style. He leaned over his knees, looking into the water. A moment of silence later, he turned his head, looking up at her, squinting a little against the sun. "You know Tyra and I…it's not…it's just not. Okay?"

I'm not jealous, she scowled. She dug her toe into a knothole, mumbling. "You know Tim, just…forget it."

"It's only you. I told you, I can only handle one woman at a time."

Not really, but thanks for trying to make me feel better, she thought, smiling down at him. He smiled wider. "You just don't like it when they catch you," she teased.

His smile faded. Cocking his head, he shrugged. "I told you Garrity. You. Just you."

Yeah. She believed him. He wouldn't cheat on her…it wasn't like him anyway. She slid off the chair to fold her legs beneath her beside him, resting her arm on his shoulder. His skin seemed to burn her, the sun and heat having dried both of them off already. "I just thought…you and her…you're so similar."

That's my thought process.

Maybe it was poor logic, but…Lyla was just curious. She turned her head slightly, looking at him in profile while he thought about an answer. His fingers tugged on a string bracelet around her wrist. She glanced at it, seeing as he twisted it around and let it unravel before twisting it again.

He finally took a deep breath. "Tyra's not the same Tyra anymore and it's good. She wants out. She deserves it."

And you don't want out? You can do it. You can go to college. I know you can.

"Besides," he said, lifting his eyebrow, making a face. "Do you know how gross it would be if my brother married her sister and had kids and the two of us were together too?"

"It's not like you guys are blood-related," she laughed, but she agreed. It was weird. Would probably make things awkward for Mindy and Billy too. She tossed her hair over her shoulder again, her lips brushing over his ear. "You think they can see us?"

Tim turned his head slightly as she rolled her eyes towards the other side of the lake, where they could barely see Tyra and Julie on the beach. He shook his head, reaching to cup her face. "Nope. Just us."

She accepted his kiss, smiling against his lips, kissing again. And again. Her arms went around him, moaning slightly as he lifted her up and pulled her into his lap. They needed to stop doing this; Tyra or Julie could see. Or anyone else for that matter, it wasn't like they were the only people here.

Breaking the kiss, she tapped his nose. "My tan is going to be uneven."

"Better make it even."

Yeah, I better. She moved to climb off of him, but should have known. She screamed, barely managing to pinch her nose closed and shut her eyes when he hoisted her up and threw her into the lake.

Laughing, she floundered for a moment until she got her bearings, wiping her hair from her face, treading the water. "Not fair!" she shouted. "I wasn't prepared!"

"That's the point Garrity!"

"Tim, no, ah!" she screamed, barely managing to get out of the way when he cannonballed right next to her. She giggled, swimming back to the dock and climbing out, before backflipping into the water.

Not to be outdone, Tim somersaulted, while she did a cartwheel, a roundhouse, a twist, and all kinds of different gymnastics moves she hadn't done in forever, right into the water.

It was so much fun.

Fun.

She tilted her head backwards the water, letting it slick down her back. Her hands went over it, smoothing it away from her eyes, smiling at Tim, who was treading water a couple of feet from her.

With a small smile, she swam backwards, away from the dock, turning to see him beside her again. She glanced back at the beach and the dock and the trees, turning a little to see that other people were beginning to arrive, now that it was getting to be later afternoon. Parties would probably start soon.

She swallowed hard, whispering. "I think I have to talk to my parents tonight."

"You said something like that."

"I don't know anymore if they're going to let me live on my own." Or emancipate from them. It wasn't like her father wasn't capable of taking care of her or anything, but…she just didn't want to live with him if she could help it.

A judge had to sign off on it, that was the one thing, that even if her parents agreed to it, a judge still had to agree it was the best interest for her to live on her own even when she had a father who had room and who…hell, who managed to become a guardian to some juvenile delinquent. Even got him a job and a place on the football team, turning him into a productive member of society.

No way was she going to get it.

She reached for Tim, wrapping herself around him. He held her, treading water for the both of them. "What if I do move in with my dad?" she asked out loud. More for herself than for an answer from him.

Which he knew; so he said nothing.

Lyla continued to voice her thoughts out loud. "I mean…he's not horrible. He just…he's just sad. I mean…he tries and I know my mom doesn't make it easy for him…she throws Kevin around in his face and she purposefully forgets when its his turn to visit with us and just…I think it's because she wants to yell at him. She was quiet for so long and now she wants a reason to just scream at him."

That's what she thought, at least. It wasn't fair to her. Or to Tabby or Buddy Junior, who were younger than her.

It doesn't mean we don't love you, they both told them. We just don't love each other anymore.

If you love us, you won't use us as little pawns, she personally thought. Even if she did know that of course, of course her mother loved her. Once upon a time they were close, but…she'd distanced herself lately.

She sighed hard, looking at Tim, whispering. "What do you think I should do?"

He shrugged. Said nothing. Why would he? It wasn't his decision to make. Tim sighed. He turned away, glancing at the beach and then back to her, whispering. "I think that you should do what you think is best for you, Lyla."

Hell, what's that like, she wondered.

"Your dad does love you."

Coming from someone whose father was never really in his life. She lifted her eyes up, whispering. "He made his bed."

"And he made mistakes," Tim whispered. He lifted his shoulder, whispering. "And so did I, but you're here with me now." A nervous look flitted across his face, his brow wrinkling a little.

You think I'm going to up and leave you, she thought, smiling a little. She cupped his face in her palm, whispering. "You're right. I am with you now." And you made some big mistakes. She quirked her lip. "But it wasn't your stalking me that got me here, just like it won't be my father's constant bullying that will get me back to live with him."

Tim shrugged. "Whatever you think Lyla, but he's not a bad guy. He's just sad. You said it yourself."

You said it, actually, I don't know if you remember. Probably not. You helped me drag him into the apartment after he made a fool of himself in front of the entire town. And I tried to take care of him then too. I always try to take care of things.

I'm so tired of always being the one to take care of things.

What do you want Lyla?

She bit her bottom lip, whispering. "I don't want to divorce my parents. I mean…I know that's not what it really is."

"So don't."

But I don't want to go to California.

Which meant she either could live on her own with their blessing or…or live with her father. Buddy.

I still have to think of some things, she thought, lowering her lips briefly to Tim's, kissing him lightly. She broke away, pushing at his shoulders and turning, swimming back to the dock, where she climbed out of the water, wrapping a towel around herself.

Turning, she looked at Tim, who was standing beside her, tugging his t-shirt on over his wet skin, where it slicked against all the muscles, forcing them to almost stand out farther. Damn. "You're pretty good looking," she chirped, smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah? You're not half bad yourself Garrity."

"This thing?" She'd pulled out the first bikini she could and it was faded from chlorine, the once bright green now a mint color. "Yeah right. I look like an Easter egg."

"Well then all the Easter eggs I've seen haven't been as hot as you."

She flushed, gathering up her things. Not saying anything, she slipped her feet into her flip flops, walking away from the dock back to his truck. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tyra, walking away from her truck. Tyra smiled, waggling her fingers in their direction. "Bye y'all!" she called.

Tyra, seriously? Lyla sighed, waving goodbye and climbing in after Tim. "You want me to take you home?" he asked. They'd dropped off her car this morning, before he brought her to the lake.

"Yeah, might as well get this over with, my dad is dropping off Buddy Junior and Tabby in about an hour."

He was quiet for a few more minutes, whispering and not breaking his gaze from the road. "You want me to stick around for you?"

In case I need an escape? No, I'll be fine. I think.

She leaned back in the seat, looking outside the window, her arm resting on it. The breeze was warm, but it was pleasant, drying her off. She closed her eyes, inhaling. It smelled like summer.

A few minutes later, her head had fallen against his shoulder and she was fast asleep.


	6. The Idiot

**A/N:**I hope people are enjoying this :) Thank you to those who have reviewed. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 6: ****_The Idiot_**

Tap…tap…tap…

What the hell?

Lyla flung a pillow off of her face, sitting up and glaring at her window. She dropped her head back down to her pillows, staring at the phone on her nightstand. She should call Tim. Let him know how the 'talk' went.

Mother accused her of abandoning them and her family. Of letting her little brother and little sister think she didn't want to be near them. Of hating Kevin.

Meanwhile, Daddy was thrilled at the idea that he'd get one of his children to stick around with him and told her he'd switch apartments so that she could have her own bathroom and privacy and everything.

Neither of them seemed to understand that she'd requested her own apartment until she'd brought it up again, saying she didn't want to live with either, she wanted to live on her own. She'd get a job and everything.

Buddy flat out told her that so long as she was staying in Dillon, she was staying with him. For the first time in two years, her mother agreed with him. They weren't going to let her live on her own and she couldn't get an apartment on her own either, not until she was eighteen.

I'll be eighteen in a few weeks, but until then…nope. It wasn't going to happen.

And she just…as nice an idea as it was, Lyla couldn't see herself living in a crappy apartment in Jason's building, trying to get into college, work, and just…just try to be a teenager for once in her life, all while her father was perfectly willing to let her live with him down the street.

Now came the final decision.

To stay or to go.

Tap…tap…tap…

"Gosh darn it," she exclaimed, throwing her comforter off and going to the window. She pulled the curtains back and lifted the window up, staring down. Her eyes widened at the sight of Tim, standing beneath her window.

What the hell was this? Romeo and Juliet? Rapunzel?

She frowned. "I'll call you tomorrow," she hissed, stepping back to lower the window again, but he threw another stone at her. It sailed by her and cracked into her mirror on the other side of the room. Nice. She scowled, peering back down at him again.

"Let me up!" he whisper-shouted.

"My mom and stepdad are home!" she whisper-shouted in return.

Tim rolled his eyes. "I break my neck, I'm telling Coach it was your fault!"

Probably shouldn't joke about breaking necks, at least with our history and friend, she thought, rolling her eyes. She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but then she saw him lifting himself up into the tree beside her window.

Oh holy crap.

"Tim!" she yelped. She covered her mouth, staring in shock as he easily brought himself from the bottom to the long limb that was beside the short awning beneath her window, which hung over the porch.

With her heart still in her chest, she watched him swing down the limb, hand over hand dangling, and he swung himself a few times, gaining the momentum to swing to the awning.

And climb delicately into her room, landing nimbly on his feet.

Tim dusted off dirt and grime from the tree and awning, smiling at her. "Hey," he chirped.

I'm going to kill you.

She punched him in the shoulder. "You idiot! You could have broken your neck!"

"And I didn't," he said, flashing a quick smile. He nodded towards her door. "Your door locked?"

"Yes. Why?" I shouldn't have bothered asking, she thought, closing her eyes as he grabbed her lips in a quick, but toe-curling intense kiss. She gasped, breaking the kiss a second later, her eyes fluttering open. Wow. That was…unexpected. Her eyes darted to his. "What was that for?"

"Just wanted to do it. How'd it go with your folks?" He kicked off his boots, flopping backwards onto her bed and grabbing one of her fashion magazines.

There should be something inherently wrong about how good he looked wearing blue plaid, ripped jeans, a sock with a hole in the toe, and his unkempt hair, lying in her pink and white ruffled sheets in the pink and white bedroom she hadn't redone since she was two, reading a fashion magazine.

Lyla frowned a little, walking around the edge of the bed to sit beside him. She drew her leg beneath her, sitting quietly. He kept reading about whether polka dots and stripes should be mixed. She sighed, whispering. "I think I might stay with my dad."

He lowered the corner of the Vogue. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. They won't let me live in an apartment by myself and face it, I don't really want it." What do you want Lyla?

I want to stay in Dillon.

"He's apologized, I mean…so many times and he tries, he really tries and I just…" Lyla sighed. She didn't need to keep listing the pros and the cons of staying in Dillon with her father; leaving her mother and siblings.

Deep down she knew she wanted to stay.

Tim closed the Vogue, setting it aside and stretching his arms behind his head. He lifted his shoulder slightly. "When are you going to tell them?"

"Tomorrow. Mom wants to move by the time school starts in California, which is in two weeks."

Two weeks.

"That's not too long."

Not at all. I'll be leaving the only place I've known as my home, to live in a small apartment with my father, who screwed up his family and my life with his selfish and rotten behavior.

Lyla Garrity, the most popular, wealthy, and prettiest girl in school, whom everyone wanted to be. Now the girl living in an apartment, with a broken family, and whom no one wanted to be anymore.

Pity parties weren't worth it. There were too many people whose lives were far more unfortunate than hers. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, and the ability to go to a good school, get a good education, and make a name for myself. Even if I don't quite know what that is.

She cocked her head, frowning a little. "Have you started the summer reading yet?"

Tim picked up Vogue again. "So you're going to stay with your dad, huh?"

"Yeah. Staying with dad. I'll tell them tomorrow." She sighed hard again, climbing up and grabbing her notebook, removing the summer reading sheet. She leaned back against her desk. "What level are you again?"

"Four."

"Fourth grade? Tim shut up. You're in College English with Mrs. Foster."

"What is the point of this magazine, by the way?" He tapped a photo, shaking his head. "I do not look good with feathered hair, but it says so because of the shape of my face."

You're trying to keep the subject off of school. Lyla wasn't going to buy it. She smiled sweetly. "You keep that up and I'm going to shave it off while you're sleeping."

He returned to the magazine, ignoring her. Meanwhile, she ignored him, searching the summer reading list for Dillon Public Schools, finally locating Tim's English class on the last page. He wasn't in the lowest level English class, because he'd managed to get enough people to do his homework that the school thought he was capable, which he was.

That's what killed her; he was fine in those classes if he did the work on his own, he just didn't want to. Lyla set the reading list down, walking to her bookcase, kneeling and plucking her dog-eared copy of _The Idiot._

She carried it to the bed, dropping it in front of the Vogue magazine in his hands. He picked it up, glancing at her. "You trying to tell me something Garrity?" he asked. He held the book like a bomb.

It's not going to blow up. "It's your summer reading," she said, lifting an eyebrow. She quirked her lip, tapping it. "I've read it about a million times. I love Dostoevsky. I think you might actually like this book if you give it a shot." Myshkin kind of reminded her of Tim, actually. So good and pure the only place for him was in essence, a sanitarium. A place surrounded by crazy people.

Dillon was pretty crazy.

Tim glanced at the book, setting it on the nightstand. He slouched down on the pillows. "So what are we going to do tonight?" he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Because I can think of a few things we didn't do last night."

Last night they just slept, which was nice. She wouldn't mind doing it again. But first…Lyla leaned over him, grabbing the book, dropping it back on his chest. He moved it off of him, again, like it was ticking.

She knew how to get him to at least pay attention to it.

I don't want to do this, she thought, but she wasn't stupid and knew it was the only way. She leaned in, her tank top, which was low cut, falling a little more. "I'll tell you what," she said quietly, her lips brushing over ear. She felt him shiver and smiled. "Why don't I read it to you and that way, you don't have to worry about reading it yourself? We can read a little every day. Sound good?"

"Because," she continued, before he answered. She brushed her lips across his earlobe again. He made a little tiny sound, deep in the back of his throat. She grinned wide. Her voice dropped to a whisper far huskier than his. Meanwhile, she'd slid her leg over his, her toes moving over his shin. "If you read this…it would make me very…very…" She kissed him lightly, her chest pressed into his. Her eyes closed. She whispered into his ear, her fingers having skimmed over his stomach, stilling on his belt buckle.

After waiting a moment, she finished. "Happy."

And then she got up completely, hearing his audible groan as he grabbed a pillow to shove over his face.

Lyla chuckled, rolling onto her side and opening up the book. She patted his knee. _"At nine o'clock in the morning, towards the end of November, the Warsaw train was approaching Petersburg at full speed..."_

About an hour later, she'd finished enough of the book, her throat sore and dry. She reached for a bottle of water, sipping and placed it back down on the nightstand. Tim's eyes were closed, but he was still awake, leaning against her and his hands folded over his stomach.

She poked his ribs, forcing his eyes open. "So what do you think so far?"

"I think it's too long and why can't they just say what they mean?" he grumbled, getting up from the bed. He went to the bathroom, leaning on the door, scowling. "Besides, all those Russian names are stupid and they're too confusing."

Maybe if I make a list, she thought, getting up and making herself a note to list the characters. She would end up tutoring him, but she wasn't going to do his homework for him. Which she knew was what he ultimately wanted.

Not happening.

Lyla returned to her bed, looking over her shoulder when Tim emerged from the bathroom. She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it at the sight of him without his shirt again. "I'm going to bed," she said.

"Not so fast Garrity."

What?

"You read a Russian book to me for an hour," he drawled, slowly walking towards her. He smiled, tugging her against him, pushing up the hem of her tank top, his voice dropping as he leaned in to kiss her. "Time to pay up."

She smiled. I didn't make a deal, but…you're right. He listened to her read Russian literature to him for an hour. She gripped the back of his head, gasping as he broke the kiss from her lips, trailing his over her neck and pushing her back onto the bed.

"You have to go after this," she moaned, trying to keep her voice down as he tugged her pink shorts off her hips. She stilled his hand, meeting his eyes, whispering. "I'm serious, you can't stay the night."

It wasn't because she didn't want him to. It was because if her mother found out…there would be hell to pay. For everyone involved. It was also just…last night had been wonderful. Waking up with him, going straight from bed to breakfast to spending their day together, but…

It was still a bit much for her right now. Hell, it had been only five days since they'd hooked up. Barely even a week.

She still wasn't sure what the heck this was supposed to be.

He scowled briefly, but nodded after a moment in understanding. He didn't say a word, before kissing her again.

And Lyla said nothing either.

Sometimes it was best to just not say anything.


	7. Lighten Up

**Chapter 7: Lighten Up**

"You need to study these plays," Matt snapped at him, storming from the Alamo Freeze, wearing that goofy hat on his head. He shoved the book at him, his eyes wide. "Come on Tim, this is the season we're talking about."

Tim took the binder, flicking it open and scowling. He tossed it into the open window of his truck, where it landed with a thunk on the passenger side floormat. "I'll get to it when I get to it." Right now he had to meet Garrity. He had plans.

It had been three days since they'd seen each other and it had been a full week since they'd started hooking up. That was the best he could call it. Hooking up, since it had only been three times. He intended to make it more.

"We have practice starting in a week and if you're tailback, you need to know the plays, this isn't just about hitting people anymore."

"I'll hit you if you don't back off," he warned. He didn't want to hear about it. He didn't want to do homework for football, he'd never done that before in his life and he didn't intend to start. He waved his hand back towards the Alamo Freeze. "Better get back to making ice cream Seven, your boss looks angry."

It really annoyed him that Smash was working as a manager there now. He should have been playing for UT or something, but no. One bad hit and he was down.

The idea of it made his stomach turn a little. And his shoulder hurt.

Jason had his neck. Smash had his knee. Tim had his shoulder.

He reached to touch his left arm, feeling it ache a little. Ever since that bad hit, playing Gatlin, when he'd gone back out for that last hit, freeing up Smash to score the touchdown, he'd had trouble with it. Felt like an old man, he could have sworn that it hurt when it was going to rain.

Lifting his eyes to the clouds, he flinched, seeing the gray beginning to gather. Damn.

Matt glanced away, shaking his head. "Forget it Riggins."

"You're just mad because that pretty boy from Dallas is coming in and people say he's better than Street." Which was a lie. No one was better than Street.

It didn't have the effect Tim wanted it to have, because Matt wasn't paying attention to him anymore. Tim turned in his seat, following Matt's gaze to where Julie was walking out of the grocery store across the street with Coach and Mrs. Taylor. He glanced back at Matt, who was still staring.

His eyes narrowed. "Close your mouth Seven."

Matt's mouth instantly shut and he looked down at his feet, shuffling. "Uh…yeah, so…plays…study them," he stuttered, lifting his eyes back to Julie again.

What was the big deal? "Go tell her you still love her or something," Tim advised. It worked for him. Well…not really. Probably best not to take his advice in the love department.

And Matt seemed to know it, turning back and scowling at him. "Take advice from you? You still stalking Lyla and that church guy?"

"She broke up with him."

"So what are you waiting for if she's free?"

He said nothing, his eyes narrowing, warning Saracen off of this particular topic. And he didn't seem to get it. Matt continued. "I guess I shouldn't take advice from you if you can't get Lyla now. I'm better off listening to Landry. At least he got Tyra."

That was actually kind of true and Tim still wondered how that came about. He knew something happened with Tyra at the beginning of the school year last year. She was just all…weird and hiding things. Landry too.

Maybe they killed someone.

He chuckled at the idea. Yeah, right. That would be a stupid story.

But it didn't really matter; somehow Landry managed to snag Tyra and keep her for the better part of a year. Although Tyra didn't really go beyond a year, so good luck Landry.

"Yeah, I'm done with this eighth grade girl talk we just had," Tim announced, picking up the binder and waving it in the air. He dropped it back down onto the seat beside him. "Go back to work Seven."

"Look at those plays!"

Whatever. He'd look at them when he felt like. And he didn't feel like it.

He had Garrity trying to turn him into some Russian scholar and now Seven wanted him to be some football genius. Tim had bigger plans. He left the Alamo Freeze, driving through town towards his house.

After parking and grabbing the bag of food, he left the binder in the truck, going up into his house.

Where he found Billy and Mindy making out on the couch.

"Hey Mindy, you got something on your face," he called.

"Shut up Tim," Mindy snapped.

"Just saying."

Billy scowled at him. "How long are you going to be? We're staying in tonight."

Disgusting. Meant he would be leaving. "Not long, just need to change."

Mindy smiled, cooing at him. "You've been missing in action for a few days now Tim, you got a girlfriend or something?"

"Or something," he answered, reaching into the fridge and taking out a few beers. He threw them into a bag, along with the food from the Alamo Freeze. He wasn't interested in answering Mindy Collette's questions about his love life.

"Tim's boning Lyla Garrity again."

Tim flung an empty can of beer at his brother, glad that he managed to hit him in the side of the head. "Watch it," he warned. He didn't like it when Billy talked about Lyla that way. It wasn't right.

The can came flying back his way again, but he was behind the counter, so it missed him by a mile. Mindy laughed, falling back and clapping her hands. "That's excellent! You and Lyla 'Miss Prissy' Garrity? Can you get the stick out of her ass while you're at it? Literally!"

He wasn't going to throw an empty can at Mindy, but he was going to glare at her. He ignored them both, reaching into the bag and removing a couple of fries, lifting his eyebrows. "Hey Mindy," he called, chewing for a moment. He smiled. "Billy ever tell you about his trip to the doctor a couple months ago?"

"Tim!"

Mindy's face immediately fell. "What?"

"You might want to get checked out." That was a lie. Billy had poison ivy. It was just in a bad place because he didn't know where you shouldn't go in the bushes when out hunting.

But Mindy didn't know that.

He smiled to himself, gathering his things and leaving the house. "See you lovebirds later," he called over his shoulder, while Mindy threw things at Billy, yelling and demanding to know if he was cheating on her and giving her diseases, while Billy threatened to commit "brothercide" or whatever killing your brother was.

He left the house, getting back in his truck and leaving, driving off towards the library. Lyla's car was parked outside. He grabbed the bag, going inside and straight to the back, where he found her in a study stall, her earbuds pressed deep into her ears, scanning a large textbook.

It was summer. Why was she studying?

Tim set the bag down on the desk, the movement and vibrations forcing her head up from the book. She smiled quickly, removing one of the earbuds. "Hey," she greeted him.

He leaned in to kiss her, but she stiffened, her gaze darting away. Ah, okay. They were still hiding this. Fine. He pulled away, sitting on the other side of her, removing a burger and sleeve of fries from the bag.

"Well aren't you sweet, thinking about me," Lyla drawled, removing the earbuds completely. She folded them around her iPod, shoving it into her backpack. She smiled warmly. "You got anything to drink with this stuff?"

"Oh do I." He removed a bottle of beer, setting it in front of her.

Lyla took the beer bottle, shoving it back into the bag, scowling at him. "Tim! We're in a library!" she hissed.

"So?" He drank everywhere. There was no one here anyway. He leaned forward, whispering. "Garrity, I don't know if you know this but we're the only ones here and…" He trailed off, his eyes widening slightly. There was someone who liked studying and then there was just plain crazy obsessed. "I don't know if you know this, but it's July! Stop studying!"

"I have to get into college!" she hissed back again, her teeth grit completely. Tim almost heard the bones of her jaw grinding in annoyance.

He lived to shake her up.

He reached for her book, closing it on her hand. She scowled. "I don't care, you need to stop. This is insane. It's been three days!"

"Yeah, I know, I was there."

"You'll get into college."

"Vanderbilt isn't just a college." Lyla grabbed a catalog from the bag beside her. She seemed oddly frantic; it was unlike her. She began to read statistics from the booklet, about people with GPAs and extracurriculars and SAT scores.

He waited until she finished reciting statistics, munching on French fries. Once she was done, he shrugged. "So?"

Her cheeks flushed pink. "So?" she echoed. She threw the book down. "Tim I have to get into Vanderbilt!" She almost begged. Like he had any say in whether she got there or not.

Why? He shook his head again, whispering and leaning forward, smiling. "Yeah, but Garrity, you can get in wherever you want, your grades are great and you're student council president and church club founder and cheerleader and all that stuff, you'll be fine and if not Vanderbilt, you can still get into UT or…or maybe like Baylor or…"

Lyla interrupted him. "No," she whispered. Her voice faded completely, looking down at her hamburger. She picked it up, lifting it to her lips and mumbling. "It has to be Vanderbilt. It has to be out of Texas."

Why? What was so wrong with Texas? Texas was great. Texas forever.

She took a bite of the burger, chewing for a few minutes and reaching for the beer bottle, sipping. The bottle clinked on the table and she shrugged, whispering. "I don't hate Texas, I just…" She tossed her hair from her eyes, meeting his gaze. "I love where I come from, but I just don't want to be here for…for the rest of my life. I want to go see something else and…maybe come back."

Come back, yes; you could always come back.

He equated it to the only thing he knew. "Like Tyra doesn't ever want to come back, but you do?" he asked, reaching for his beer bottle.

Lyla nodded quickly. "Yeah. I mean…I can go to another school and I can go to another state, but Texas will always be my home and I will always be a Texan. I can come back to Dillon…it's not like I want to be something that I can never come back here for, I mean…not like I want to be an astronaut or something."

"What do you want to be?" he whispered. He could see her being a teacher. Or a counselor. Maybe like Mrs. Taylor, but…maybe she could go be a minister or something, she was so good at it all. Helping people.

Lyla Garrity had to be doing something good and had to be helping people. Always. The most genuine person he knew, that was her.

She blinked, shaking her head, smiling a little. "That's the thing Tim. I don't know. I have to go somewhere to find that."

"You can find it here and go there afterward."

"I don't know, but…just not Texas. Not UT, I mean…my dad went there and I just can't go there." Lyla plucked at her French fries, turning them around to him while she ate her burger and he picked at her fries. She swallowed a large bite, washing it down with a swig of beer and speaking. "I'm moving in with my dad."

So it was finalized, huh?

He didn't say anything; she didn't call and let him know or anything. I mean…he had no idea if they were even in that sort of a…relationship, he guessed, to warrant such a thing.

Lyla sighed heavily. She finished her burger and reached at the fries between them, taking a couple. She twirled them around, whispering. "I didn't tell you because I just didn't want to talk about it."

He took another swig of beer. After swallowing, he lifted his eyes, meeting hers. "You don't have to always talk about things," he whispered. He shrugged. "But I'm always here."

Lyla folded her arms on the table, her eyes narrowing. She quirked her lip up in a tiny smile. "What are we doing Tim?"

I don't know what we're doing.

"Because it's not just sex, although that's nice." She smiled and he returned it, lifting his eyes up from the table again. It wasn't just sex, but they also weren't really talking or anything else. She bit her bottom lip, still smiling. "But I like it and…and I don't quite know what this is, but…I want to see where it goes."

So it could still be a summertime thing.

Tim didn't like labels. He finished his beer, tossing the bottle into a nearby trashcan with their food wrappers. He took Lyla's, getting up from the table while she gathered her books. She slung the bag over her shoulder, hiding the beer bottle in it as they walked out, giggling and hurrying passed the librarian, who just shot them a dirty look.

Wait a second.

There was one thing he'd never done in a library, other than study.

And he was fairly certain Garrity hadn't either.

He grabbed the bottle from her, throwing it into another trashcan and taking her hand, turning and slipping between two of the bookcases, beginning to rush along towards the back.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, looking over her shoulder every few seconds, laughing and giggling as they stumbled together into a corner behind the science books. She dropped her bag onto the floor, her eyes widening along with her smile when it dawned her. "No! Tim, I can't do this here!"

"You can do it anywhere."

"That's not exactly true, it violates laws, and we could get in so much trouble."

So you say as you're unbuckling my belt, he thought, smiling against her lips. It was in the corner of the library behind several of the old bookcases that moved and were on tracks. He pushed back against one, knocking it into place, blocking the sound.

No one would come looking back here.

Lyla giggled against his lips. "I feel so bad."

You are actually not really the goody-two-shoes girl that people think you are, he thought, his fingers diving through her hair, deepening the kiss.

Too bad more people didn't see it.

"You only live once," he whispered against her lips, smiling when she returned the grin. He captured her lips again with his and his fingers diving through her hair, cupping the back of her head and holding it steady. A moment later, he pulled away, whispering. "Live, Garrity. No regrets."

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah." She smiled again, wider this time. "No regrets."

I'm rubbing off on you, good, he thought with a chuckle. He was about to say so when Lyla's foot dragged behind his, catching him behind his ankles, forcing him to the floor.

She pushed his arms above his head, smiling. "You're mine."

Yeah, he thought, smiling a little and continuing to kiss her.

I am.


	8. Slip Up

**A/N:**Thank you for the reviews. As for formatting, my writing style is pretty 'thought-based' and people don't think in paragraphs, so the thoughts are broken up. It's a quirk of my writing, I've been writing like that forever, but thanks for the criticism. Hope people continue to enjoy there are only several more chapters remaining. Thanks and enjoy :)

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**Chapter 8: Slip-Ups**

I hate tailback.

"I hate it!" he yelled, even though Lyla was sitting right behind him, driving away from practice, since his truck wasn't running right and he still had to fix it. He was too busy with two-a-days, getting the stupid ball thrown at his head and Saracen and Coach riding his ass and eating more turf than he had in his entire life.

Lyla nodded, leaning her arm on the open window. "I know, you said," she mumbled.

"They expect me to study!" He kept going, even though she'd said something he didn't quite hear about how he was a senior now. He couldn't believe this crap. "I have never studied for football. I play it."

And now Coach was riding his ass, which he hated, because Coach never used to ride his ass like this. He hit. That's what he did. He caught the ball in the endzone sometimes and other times he hit people while Smash ran the ball.

Now he was running it.

Lyla pursed her lips, her voice cool. "You had to know plays before."

"That was different. I didn't have to memorize every single one. I didn't have to have meetings and stuff with Mac and the Coach and…and Saracen, he thinks that he's the smartest on all this stuff, but Smash was the one…" he trailed off. That wasn't really it though.

Smash and Seven would have their meetings with the Coach. And he heard it got really bad last year when he went to Mexico and Smash was thinking he could carry the team and all.

Maybe I should talk to him.

He shook his head again, continuing. "And now my shoulder is killing me." Which was a big deal, because he never bitched about how he felt. He felt a bit like a five year old.

Lyla sighed hard, whispering. "At least you're playing football again though, right?"

Yeah. Yeah that was true. He always hated the off-season.

He glanced down at her phone, which was buzzing in the cupholder. He nodded towards it. "You want to get that?"

"No, it's my dad. He wants me to go with him to pick out stuff for my room, but I'm just moving my things in. I don't want anything new." She sighed hard, hitting her head back against the headrest, whispering; her eyes never broke from the road. "I just want to get that over with."

Yeah. He knew she was hurting over her family leaving. They were going to move in a few days. He hoped she'd take the time to be with them. The last week she'd been hanging a lot with him.

Not that that was a bad thing, just that it meant she wasn't with her family. They would be leaving and she was busy ignoring it all. Well, not ignoring, but…he knew she just didn't want to delay things so she was trying to make it easier by staying out of the way while her mom packed and stuff.

He reached to touch his shoulder, closing his eyes as it stabbed in pain again. The trainer had made him stay afterward to ice it down and even gave him a note to take to some doctor, just to get an x-ray or something. He threw it out when Lyla came to get him. He didn't need a doctor. It was just sore.

"Is your shoulder bothering you?" Lyla asked, breaking the silence.

Yeah. "No."

"Stop lying."

"It's just bruised, the trainer doesn't think it's a big deal." He flashed a quick smile at her. "What do you want to do tonight? You going back home?"

"No. Can I hang out with you tonight?"

Sure, he guessed. He meant to drop by and see Jason, the little guy was supposedly spending the night with him and Herc. He glanced at Lyla, smiling brightly. "Want to see Jason? Little Six is staying with him tonight, I think. I think it's tonight…anyway, figured he might want some company."

She shrugged a shoulder, whispering. "Won't that be awkward?"

"Why?"

They came to a stop in front of a red-light. She shrugged, turning her head towards him. "I don't know, I mean…it's Jason. I just…" She shrugged again; whispering as the light turned green and she drove off. "Thought it might be weird for you."

"It's not weird." He didn't think it'd be weird…he wasn't going to tell Jason about them. He sighed. "I haven't told him. Don't know when."

"You don't have to tell him yet."

Why? Because this will be over at the end of the summer?

Tim rubbed at his shoulder again. He waited until they pulled up in front of his house before he turned to look at her, shrugging and whispering. "We don't have to tell him at all if you want." He would want Jason to know, but…if she didn't, then they wouldn't.

He went up into the house, holding his bag by his other shoulder, even if it felt awkward to him. He was glad that Billy and Mindy weren't home. He wanted to get a long hot shower and then just chill in peace.

In his bedroom, he dropped his gym bag, reaching to tug off his t-shirt. "Oh my God!" Lyla exclaimed from behind him.

"What?" he asked, cringing and grabbing for his shoulder when he made a move to pull his shirt over his head. He turned, leaving the shirt hanging around his neck, peering at her.

"Your shoulder! Come on, I'm taking you to the ER."

"Lyla, I don't need to go…"

"I'll pay for it, it doesn't matter, come on." Lyla looped her arm into his, taking him from the house back to her car. "You're bruised like crazy, it's all red, and swollen. You hurt it, now come on."

They went back to the car and he scowled, annoyed the entire way to the ER. He followed her inside, taking the clipboard that a nurse passed them. Lyla took it from him, leading him to a chair and sat beside him, taking the pen out from beneath the clipboard and began to fill in the empty spaces.

He glanced sideways at her. "This isn't how I wanted to spend tonight."

"Well me either, now just shush and let me finish this." Lyla continued to write, turning the page over and frowned after a moment. "Did you break your wrist when you were eight or nine?"

"Nine. Why?"

"It's asking for your injuries."

Tim peered over her shoulder, reading her neat handwriting. Everything was correct. She hadn't asked him anything but that question, finally finishing and passing it towards him to sign. He waited for her to get up and return everything to the nurse.

She came back, taking her phone out of her purse. "Watch this for me, I'm going to just call my mom and let her know I won't be home for dinner. Otherwise she'll break my voicemail."

"Okay," he whispered, waiting for her to leave. Tim sighed, slumping down in the chair. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. Now came the wait. He hated doctors. And hospitals. The smell was just…

"Riggy?"

One eye opened, peering up at Smash, who was standing in front of him, with a big black knee brace around his left leg. "Sup' Williams?" he asked.

"What's up with you?" Smash asked. He smiled a little, gesturing to his knee. "Slipped in the freezer at work and they want me on this thing to just make sure I don't mess it up, but they said it's okay. Just precaution I guess…what are you doing here? Isn't it first day of practice?"

Don't pretend like you don't know, Tim thought, smiling sadly. He could see the look on Smash's face. Trying to act like he didn't care when he really did. He nodded, whispering. "Yeah. First day."

"Already got yourself hurt? Thought you were the toughest one around."

Until Lyla Garrity is around, then suddenly I'm a big baby.

Tim cleared his throat, shifting in the seat. "Yeah I just…it's still pretty bad from blocking that stupid Junior in Gatlin sophomore year. Saved your ass."

"Lucky hit Riggs."

They traded barbs for the next few minutes, until he was smiling and chuckling. It felt kind of good to get Smash's goat. It was pretty easy too. "It's not the same without you on the field," he said, not trying to get sentimental. He sighed. "And I hate tailback already."

"You study the book yet?"

He snorted.

Smash laughed. "Yeah, I got that."

Tim ran his tongue over his teeth. He really didn't want to get sentimental, but…he didn't like seeing Smash wearing a stupid uniform and slipping in ice cream freezers and not being on a football field. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Jason and Smash were the ones in town who were going to go big.

Now look at the both of them.

Jason's highlight of the week was that he could watch his son for a few hours or let the kid spend the night. Smash was in an ER for slipping in a damn freezer.

Tim sighed again. "You know Smash, you should be playing ball out there. You should come to practice. Just to show the newbies how it's done. Seem like old times."

He was already getting the shake of a head. "I'm done with that Riggins. I practice with Coach because he makes me, but…I'm not going to come to practice and be some mascot. Street wouldn't do it and I won't either."

Yeah, he supposed so.

Tim still thought it might be best if he came to practice a couple times a week, when Lyla appeared beside him, coming from the opposite side she left. "Hey, I talked to my mom…" her voice trailed off and she smiled brightly. "Hi Smash, how are you?"

"Lyla," Smash exclaimed. He laughed a little, but his gaze was quizzical, glancing down to Tim. "Nice to see you."

"Yeah, it's been awhile," Lyla said, walking around and picking up her bag, setting it on the seat beside her. She crossed her legs, popping her foot up and down, her flip flop making a clacking noise at it hit the bottom of her heel. "So how is it working at the Alamo Freeze? Do you get benefits now that you're a manager?"

Smash nodded, shrugging again. "Yeah, it's okay. It's a job, you know, I can help with my mom."

"How is she? I just saw her the other day, she seemed well."

Why would you have seen Mrs. Williams the other day, Tim thought, narrowing his eyes. He glanced at Lyla, blurting out. "Where'd you see her?"

Lyla arched an eyebrow, silently telling him to shut up. Oh, that's right, he remembered. Planned Parenthood. Wait, what? Why?

She again gave him a dark look. "I saw her when I was picking up some things," she said, her teeth grit.

Ah, okay, now he got it.

One look at Smash told him that Smash got it too and was trying not to smile. He shot him a dark look. I will kill you. "Something in your eye Smash?" he asked, as Smash knelt his head a little, chuckling and trying to hide his smile.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he laughed. He smiled at them both. "I'll see you guys around. My mom's waiting for me outside."

"Come to practice!" Tim shouted.

"No!" Smash replied.

Damn.

A nurse leaned out the doorway to the ER, holding a folder. "Tim Riggins?"

"You want me to go with you?" Lyla asked, already getting up from her chair and slinging her purse over her shoulder, walking with him into the main exam area, where the nurse led them to a curtained room.

I hate hospitals, he thought again.

About an hour later, he left the hospital with a prescription for some painkillers, which Lyla had in her purse and a brace to wear at night when he slept. This was going to interfere with his activities with Garrity, but Tim supposed he could put it on afterward, as stupid as that would look.

He also had another request to see a doctor and to let the trainer know, which he would. It was just so stupid.

They went back to his house; Lyla got him a glass of water for the painkillers and helped him change, putting the stupid brace on. "How do you think Smash likes being in Dillon still?" she asked.

"I think he hates it but won't say so. What do you think you're doing?"

Lyla looked over from the doorway to his bedroom. She shrugged. "I was going to go back out and clean up a bit. You need rest."

He shook his head, smiling. "I don't think so. Get back here."

"Tim, no funny business."

That wasn't fun. He felt a little loopy. He blinked a few times, the pain in his shoulder all but gone. He yawned. It was a strange feeling. He didn't like it.

He fell backwards onto his bed and Lyla tugged off his boots and his jeans. He crawled up to the pillows, sighing as she leaned over, smiling and laughing. "Night night," she cooed, kissing his forehead like he was an idiot.

He waved his hand in the air, almost smacking her in the face. "Yeah," he mumbled.

As she was walking out of the room, he sighed into his pillow, feeling everything go even cloudier than it was a moment before. He smiled a little. "I love you," he mumbled.

The door closed behind her.

I hope she didn't hear that, he thought briefly, before he passed out completely.


	9. The One, The Only

**Chapter 9: The One, The Only**

Lyla was fairly sure Tim said he loved her, when he was passing out into his pillow, not to wake until ten the next morning. She didn't tell him or say anything. It wasn't like she didn't already know. He'd told her, the year before. Maybe not in a great way, but…

But she didn't want to broach the subject.

They were sleeping together. It was fun. It was sex. It was amazing.

Every single time she felt like she was flying. The release was just…all the stress of the last two years disappeared. She couldn't hide in her bedroom or Tim's bedroom or the stupid corner of the library or the backseat of her car or the frontseat of his truck all the time.

The summer was almost over.

He was practicing most of the time or else he was goofing off with Billy and drinking and generally enjoying the last summer he had before his last year of school. She was moving in with her father now and it was just…it was a mess.

I have absolutely no idea what I am doing or where I am going.

She sat in her old bedroom, on the floor, her back to the wall. It was empty. Yesterday the movers had taken all her things to her father's and then everything else in the house her mother wanted was in a truck on its way to California.

They had one last day together, just the two of them. And she spent some time with her siblings.

And she cried her eyes out when they got in the car and drove away from the house she grew up in.

I'm all alone.

I really let them leave.

I don't know where I'm going. Or what I'm doing.

Just that I'm spending my last summer screwing around with Tim Riggins and trying to distract myself and get that release and just…it was working to a point. Because then she'd wake up and wonder what the hell happened and why she kept allowing it to happen.

Would they date? Were they going to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Was Tim capable of being a good boyfriend? She'd seen him with Tyra. She'd seen him with other girls. It lasted like twenty minutes.

I do not want to be one of the many.

But God…her father…

Lyla ran her hand over her forehead, pushing her hair back. She closed her eyes and slowly opened them a moment later, staring at the empty room. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. It was over.

Whatever life she'd truly had before was now gone completely.

She turned her head when the door opened. "Dad," she whispered, but stopped, seeing Tim in place of her father. She frowned, wondering how he got in. "What are you doing here?"

"I was driving by and…saw the For Sale sign," he whispered. He shrugged, his hands in his pockets. He glanced around the empty room, his voice echoing. "Saw your car and figured…I see how you were doing."

So how are you doing, he silently wanted to know.

Well Tim, I'm wondering if you and I are just friends with benefits, I'm wondering if you'd treat me like any other girl in town, and I'm wondering what the hell happened to Lyla Garrity who was going to go to Notre Dame because that's where Jason Street was going and become Mrs. Street the second I turned 18 and started popping out babies.

That's how I'm doing.

Lyla didn't get up from her stretched out position against the wall. She sighed, looking away when he decided that meant he had to sit down beside her, stretching his legs out. He tapped the toes of his boots together, turning to glance down at her. "I know this isn't what you want," he whispered.

No shit.

Lyla tossed her hair out of her eyes, whispering. "I still have to finish the summer reading with you. I have a list of the characters. We can go over the themes. So you have a leg up on the paper you have to write the first week. _The Idiot _is a good book, but it's Russian literature so you know, it's a little…tricky."

"You go to your dad's house yet? Need help unpacking?" He said nothing about the summer reading, which he hadn't. Even when she read it to him, he just let her read, but didn't really answer when she tried to engage him to answer the questions.

"No, I'm fine. My dad doesn't know about us." She met his eyes, whispering. "He won't know about us until I'm ready." Her tone was biting. I do not feel like I'm in the best mood and I do not want to act like it and pretend things are cute and fine between us.

Once again, he didn't say anything about that decision. She knew he wasn't thrilled with it, but…to be honest she really just couldn't care right now.

"You know Lyla he's trying," Tim whispered.

He never said anything about her relationship with her father; she wasn't interested in Tim Riggins's assessment of the situation. She turned her head a little, scowling. "Yeah, I know." That didn't make it easier.

She got up from the floor, dusting off her jeans. "Come on," she said, shoving her hands into her pockets. "Let's get out of here."

"And go where?" he asked, not getting up.

Anywhere, she thought.

She left her car in the driveway, going with him in the truck, her sunglasses shielding her expression from him as he drove away from the house she grew up in, mostly empty and with the forlorn For Sale sign in the front.

They drove through town, with Tim stopping to pick up something with his fake ID she thought. Sergeant. It was hilarious that he had that on the fake ID. Every single person in town knew who he was. Just one of the many hypocrisies of Dillon.

She didn't say anything, finally looking up when he stopped in front of the football field. "What are we doing here?" she asked. This wasn't her sanctuary to the extent it was his.

To be honest, she didn't know if she had one anymore. It used to be church. Now? Not so much.

"We're going to have some fun."

"Tim, I don't know if you know this but I am not a football player."

"Come on," he said, smiling and reaching beside him for the brown bags, leaving and going to hop the fence.

That is not good for your shoulder you idiot, she sighed, climbing out and slamming the truck door behind her, following him to the football field; only she chose to reach through and unlatch the gate instead of hop it. She walked slowly around the stands, looking up in the darkness as he ran to the press box, which also housed the lights.

A moment later, she scanned the stadium, the lights powering on and flooding the darkness. Wow. She blinked a few times, seeing spots at the sudden change in brightness.

It was kind of neat; to stand there on the sidelines in the dimming light of the evening, with no one in the stadium, just the two of them. A loud screech sounded from the speakers and she yelped, covering her ears quickly, glaring up at Tim who was playing around with the microphone. "Tim!" she shouted, laughing. "What are you doing!?"

Maybe it was a good thing they were together. She sometimes thought she brought out the best of him. Maybe he brought out some of the worst in her, but…he got her to lighten up, so that was probably a good thing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" he shouted into the microphone, laughing and taking a swig from his brown bag. "The great…Lyla…Garrity!" He made crackling noises to sound like applause, which had her laughing.

She ran out onto the field, waving her hands, holding the brown bag in her left hand, reaching to take a swig. It was whiskey. Not that she was a big whiskey drinker, but it felt good. Nice and smooth down her throat.

"Lyla will be performing some sort of gymnastic thing for us today," Tim continued, smiling up in the press box. "So go on there Garrity and show us what you got!"

"I'm going to kill you!" she screamed, taking another swig and setting it down. She snapped her feet together, looking down the football field and smiling. This could be good and bad.

Maybe it would be his turn to take her to the ER.

"On your mark!" he yelled.

"It's not a race!"

She took a deep breath and ran for several yards before she flung her hands forward, hitting the turf, pushing off hard from the soft grass and launching herself into the air into a handspring, before hitting her hands again, her body twisting as she did a back handspring.

On her way up again, she forced her body into a twist, her eyes clenched tight and teeth grit at the exertion of her muscles, before she straightened out and landed on her feet.

Wow.

I still can do it, she laughed, her arms outstretched in the air. Practically praising God for not causing her to break her neck or something. She jumped a few times, pretending like she was at the Olympics and everyone was cheering her on. It was actually fun.

Kind of a release; Tim was right when he once told her that she got some sort of a 'feel good' feeling from being a cheerleader. Not so much the environment or the other people, but just being able to do something and jump around and just be kind of in your own world.

All she'd ever wanted was to be a cheerleader.

I don't know who that girl is anymore, she thought briefly, hearing Tim in the microphone, praising her and giving her a '200' score because tens were just for sissies.

"Again," he shouted.

"What! I can't do that again!"

"Again!"

She laughed and ran again, doing some more combinations, her muscles aching and straining, but in a good way. She hadn't stretched at all, so this was going to come back and bite her in the ass tomorrow morning; if she could get out of bed.

All the while, Tim cheered her on from the press box.

She didn't realize that she'd been doing cartwheels and backflips and twists and all kinds of things for a like an hour until she stopped and looked up at the sky, seeing it pitch black instead of just lightly lit. Wow.

She breathed deeply, watching Tim approach her, finishing off his bottle. "You need a nap now baby?" she teased.

"I could go for a nap, but I have plans for us tonight," he teased, swinging his arm around her waist and dragging her around in a circle, his lips brushing against hers. He smiled, whispering. "How you doing?"

"I'm great." I honestly am. This was…it was fun to just goof off.

He took another swig from his bottle. "I bet I can do it."

"I bet you can't. I bet you have a bad shoulder that is still healing and if you broke it or something Coach would murder you."

"Coach Taylor won't hurt me."

"I think he will." She would put money on it that if Eric Taylor lost his tailback to more drunk crazy shenanigans, he would kill Tim. He'd put up with it for the last two years and was probably at his breaking point.

"Tim," she warned, standing off to the side and watching as he laughed, clearly drunk off his ass. They were going to have to walk home, there was no way either of them was clear to drive, especially him. She tugged down the brown paper, seeing that he'd almost finished the entire bottle of Jack Daniels.

Your drinking can get so out of control, she thought briefly, throwing it aside and crossing her arms, watching with a lifted eyebrow. "What Mommy?" he asked, standing away from her, almost on the other side of the football field. "You mad at me?"

"No, I'm waiting to see if I have to take you to the hospital."

"It's just whiskey!"

"An entire bottle!"

"Whatever."

Whatever? She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips and gesturing. "Go on, show me what you got Nadia Comaneci."

"Who?"

"Forget it, just do your cartwheel." Lyla stood off, her hip cocked and arms crossed, watching as he yelled and ran, did a cartwheel and landed on his ass, laughing and rolling from side to side. She sighed hard, walking over and peering down, her hands on her knees. "Very smooth."

He giggled; she loved when he giggled, because sometimes he could be so sad and serious. Plus, he was one of the only guys she'd ever met who could actually giggle instead of outright laugh. "You missed me," he said, smiling up at her.

I did, she could honestly say. She smiled, leaning down and kissing him, knowing that his arms were going to come up around her, pulling her on top of him. She returned the kiss, not caring that she was going to get grass stains all over her white tank top.

They lay there on the fifty-yard line for a few more minutes, until she broke the kiss, looking up at him, smiling. Her hand went to his cheek, cupping it for a moment before letting it fall to his shoulder, whispering. "Thank you."

He quirked his lip up in a smile. "Why?"

"Just thank you." This takes my mind off of having to go back to that little apartment with my father. She knew it wouldn't be all bad, it was just…it was going to be a little hard at first. Most things were.

My father really is trying. He does love me. He just shows it…shows it in strange ways. Or does stupid and selfish things.

She smiled again. "You cannot possibly drive."

"I'll call my DD."

"Me? I'm drunk too."

Tim reached into her front pocket, fished around for a few minutes, which had her writhing as he made a few other moves that had her skin tingling and aching. He removed it and dialed, speaking quickly. "What up? Can you come get me? I'm at the football field."

He waited a second and then answered whomever it was on the other end. "Why do you think I can't drive myself? I'm being a responstible person."

Responstible. Yeah, you're drunk, she thought, rolling her eyes.

Another second later he hung up, shoving the phone back into her pocket. She should have looked to see who he called, but she didn't really care. Her arms returned to around his neck, kissing him again.

I do like kissing him.

His hand trailed down to her hip, pushing up beneath her t-shirt to smooth over her back. She knew this was dangerous; when she got drunk she got stupid. So did he. They were in a public place, on the damn football field, and she was not, she repeated to herself, not going to do this here.

She broke away a few minutes later, pushing him aside and getting to her feet, biting at her chapped lips and standing, slightly unsteady. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she went to the stands, walking up a few and smiling when he followed her, standing a few steps below her.

You're just…what will I do with you Tim Riggins, she wondered, her hands going to his shoulders. She smiled a little. "So what's going on with Tyra and Landry?" she asked. Just to ask anything or talk about anything to keep from taking him up to the press box and having her way with him.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Mindy's dating your brother."

"So? I don't know what goes on with Tyra."

Lyla supposed that was good for her, that he wasn't hanging around with Tyra. She sighed, shrugging. "I was just curious. He seemed kind of upset about her last year."

"Why are we talking about Landry and Tyra?"

"I'm just trying to make conversation!"

"Not about them!"

She laughed, leaning back down and kissing him again. His arms went back around her, lifting her from the step and spinning in place. Her legs went around his waist as she leaned over him, kissing deeper and deeper. Out of control.

He let her go and she ran back down the steps onto the field, with him behind her, grabbing hold of her waist again. She screamed and laughed, spinning in circles to the point where she thought she was going to be sick.

Fun. Gosh, this is fun. I haven't had fun in forever.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a truck approaching and stopping beside the gate. She figured it was Billy and didn't stop kissing Tim, finally breaking away when she heard a familiar voice call out.

"Riggins?"

Oh my God.

Lyla let go of Tim, dropping to her feet and pushing him away. She turned quickly, her hand covering her mouth, hurrying towards the stands to pick up their whiskey bottles. She cleared her throat, tossing her hair out of her eyes and calling out to the gate. "Hey Jason."

You asshole, she thought, shooting a dark look at Tim. He didn't seem to care; of course, he was drunk. He probably didn't even realize.

She met Tim at the gate, where Jason was waiting in his truck. He frowned a little at her, clearing his throat and smiling. "Hey there Lyla."

"Hi," she answered.

"You guys getting your drunk on?"

Some of us are.

Tim walked out of the stadium, shutting the gate and going to the truck. "Thanks for coming Six."

Lyla tossed the trash into the back of the truck, next to Jason's wheelchair and climbed in after Tim, stumbling over him to sit between him and Jason. She wondered how much Jason saw, if at all. She thought of her car still at her old house. Tomorrow, she'd just walk over there and get it tomorrow.

She didn't say a word, not even to ask Tim if he was sure they shouldn't go back and turn off the lights. It didn't really matter; as they drove away, she was sure she saw Smash and Coach approaching the football field, holding cones in their hands. Probably good they left when they did, if they were going to go out and practice.

It wasn't even late, but she felt so tired. Tim was going to pass out soon. They would have to get him to the house or else she'd have to carry dead weight Riggins by herself. Not that she hadn't helped Jason do it a few times before.

They were silent, all three of them, going to Tim's house, where she helped him in, Jason following behind in his chair. She dropped Tim onto the bed. He was out like a light. "You're the best guy a girl could have," she grumbled, pulling off his boots and socks, turning him onto his side so he didn't suffocate and leaned over, kissing his forehead. "Thank you," she murmured again.

"Hmmm…welcome," he replied, hugging his pillow against his chest.

You are going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.

Lyla left him, cracking the door behind her. She glanced at Jason, who was in the center of the living room, watching her. She sighed, her hands on her hips, waiting a moment and making sure she had the right words. She cleared her throat, whispering. "How much did you see?"

"A lot."

Yeah. She figured he did. It was about time anyway. She bit her bottom lip, lifting her eyes and frowning. "It's just been going on the last three weeks."

"You don't need to hide it from me Lyla," Jason whispered. He smiled, actually looking happy, but she could also see that his forehead was wrinkled and hear the tightness in his voice. "You and Tim can do whatever you guys want."

We probably should have still told you earlier. Not kept it hidden from you, but…she didn't know if this was going to last. If it would matter that people knew or not.

She blinked through tears. "I don't know what I'm doing with him," she whispered.

Jason looked down at his knees. He closed his eyes, his voice still tight. This was clearly hard for him. "Lyla…I don't need to hear about…about what is going on with you and Tim. I don't want to. Okay?"

We can be friends, but not those kinds of friends, he was trying to let her know. She understood. I cheated on you with him. Your best friend. A betrayal of even greater magnitude. If you wanted to split hairs like that.

I understand. She nodded to the door, her arms still crossed. "You can go back home. I'll just stay the night and make sure he doesn't kill himself or something."

"Yeah." Jason wheeled himself to the door, pausing while she helped him up over the step. She opened the door for him and he carefully dropped down to the other step, turning and looking back up at her. He smiled briefly. "For what it's worth Lyla…Tim has seemed happier the last couple weeks."

She smiled quickly. "Yeah." He did seem a little happier. Of course, it was also football time and…and it was summer and he was a Riggins. He made his own fun.

"I'm glad he has you, while I…deal with my stuff," Jason continued. He released a long breath, whispering and smiling again. "You should come over when I have Noah. I think he'd like to see his Aunt Lyla."

It was so crazy… "I still can't believe you have a baby," she laughed, grinning. She crossed her arms, leaning against the door frame. She shook her head, breathing deep. "Two years ago today we were…Jason and Lyla. Playing "Is it true?" for kisses. Planning Notre Dame together."

"And now I'm Jason Street, the single guy with a baby, no job and a broken spine," Jason whispered. He lifted his eyes up to hers, his voice lifting a little, a bit more positive. "And you are Lyla Garrity, about to go to a great college and have a great life that is all your own."

Yeah. All mine. It was terrifying.

She nodded towards his truck. "You need help?"

"Naw, I'm used to this now. Come by the apartment sometime, we'll talk more," he said. He jerked his head to the house, rolling his eyes. "Drag Mr. Drunky Pants in there too. Preferably sober."

"Have you met Tim? He's rarely 100% sober." That wasn't entirely true. It was just an easy joke to make at his expense.

Jason chuckled. He turned around, glancing over his shoulder and smiling. A little bit happier than he was a moment before, confronting her on Tim. "I'm glad he's happy Lyla. Even if…"

Even if it's with me, she thought, lifting her eyebrow. She hoped that wasn't the case.

He shook his head, laughing and realizing how it sounded. "No, not like that, I mean…I'm glad he's happy and…as hard as it is that it's you, I figured…figured that if he were going to be that happy…it would be because of you. And I don't like thinking that…but…the past is the past. We're different now."

Yes. All three of them were very different.

Except maybe Tim. Although he didn't drink as much and he was actually letting her read his summer reading to him and he wasn't horrible at his schoolwork when she tried to talk to him about it.

Jason gave a silent wave, wheeling back to his truck. Lyla stepped back into the house and closed the door. She stepped away and went back into Tim's room, sitting on the bed and pulling her phone out of her pocket. She dialed her father, lifting it to her ear.

"Lyla, baby?" he demanded, almost the second it rang once. Buddy was frantic. "Where are you? I thought you'd be home by now."

"I'm spending the night with a girlfriend, I'll be home tomorrow."

"Your car is at the old house, I drove by there to check on you. Where are you?" he repeated, not buying into her excuse.

She pursed her lips, whispering. "I'll be home later tonight. I'm helping a friend. You don't need to wait up for me Daddy, I'm not a little girl anymore." I'm not Daddy's little girl anymore. I haven't been for the last two years.

"Does this friend have a name?"

She glanced down at Tim, who was fast asleep on his back, his arms slung over his head like he was a baby. When he slept he was peaceful. Whatever inner turmoil went on inside of him, whatever cause of his drinking or his apathy or just…just general insecurities, all went away when he was sleeping.

Lyla covered his chest with her hand, feeling his heartbeat. Sometimes he was so still that she had to reassure herself he was alive. She took a deep breath, whispering. "Yes, my friend has a name."

"Is your father going to know it? Especially if you're out with this friend?"

You never cared before. Why now? Trying to reassure yourself you're a great parent? Lyla closed her eyes and sighed again. "Daddy, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'll talk to you later."

"I know honey, I just…I love you, okay?"

"Hmm," she replied, hanging up. She felt terrible for not responding, but…right now she just was still trying to feel her way back through her relationship with Buddy Garrity.

She slid down to lie beside Tim. After a few minutes, she turned into him and smiled when his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against him.

Three weeks.

Lyla wasn't sure how much longer this could go on before they had to confront it.


	10. Benefits

**Chapter 10: Benefits**

"So what's the overarching theme of the book?"

Lyla held up her copy of _The Idiot_, staring at Tim, who was just tossing his pencil around on his notebook, watching it roll off and onto her bed. She kicked him, forcing his eyes up from the pencil and to her. She pointed to his copy, which she'd helped highlight. "Come on," she ordered.

It wasn't hard Tim, you already told me. "I walked you through this Tim, but I'm not doing it for you."

He sighed, flicking open his book and tossing it around. His eyes lifted up. Bedroom eyes, she thought, seeing the half-lidded look to go with his slightly parted lips. I'm not buying into it.

After a moment of staring at each other he groaned, flopping onto his back. "Come on Garrity! I can't do this with you naked."

"I'm not naked you idiot."

"You're wearing a bra."

She glanced down at her pink lace bra. Yes, she was wearing a bra, because she was naked, but he wasn't paying attention, so she put the bra on. It was hotter than hell and Buddy didn't turn the A/C up very high because it was too expensive, so they were both suffering.

If they went to Tim's house, which would have been more comfortable, they wouldn't have been able to stop what they had been doing earlier. It was just too hot that she wasn't really in the mood for anything beyond just laying there. And Tim bitched and said he was "creeped out." Plus, they'd run out of condoms and she hadn't gone back to Planned Parenthood to get more. It was too conspicuous for her to get them at the store and Tim kept forgetting. Now she was protesting it. She was sick of having to remember everything with Tim.

So they were doing homework, because she couldn't find anything else to do and she needed to get him to at least pretend like he cared about his grades.

Tim closed his eyes, sighing and rolling onto his back completely. She set her book aside, crawling over and stretching out on top of him, kissing him lightly. "What's one of the themes?" she murmured.

"Hmm…I don't know."

Very slowly, she dragged her fingernails over his chest and down his abs. He hissed as she hovered them over the waistband of his boxers. She lifted an eyebrow. "One of the themes."

"Um….good world versus the real world."

"Very good," she murmured, her nose brushing over his and smiling against his lips. She slipped her hand beneath the boxers, but stilled it, much to his displeasure. Lyla lifted her head a little, rising up over him and resting her knees on either side of his stomach. "Theme?"

"Love."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Tim whined, kicking his feet against the headboard. "It's a theme!"

"Explain it and then I'll do that thing you really…" she kissed the corner of his mouth, trailing over to his neck and collarbone, kissing between each other. "Really. Really. Enjoyed." Her hand still didn't move. This was absolutely killing him and she was being a total bitch about it, but Lyla didn't really care.

Tell me one of the damn themes of the freaking book and I'll give you sex, it wasn't difficult and yet Tim seemed to make it difficult. He opened his mouth, probably to give her an explanation; probably a very good explanation because he was desperate, when she heard a door slam. She stilled. Tim's eyes widened.

"Wait," she whispered. She covered his mouth with her free-hand, looking up and staring at her bedroom door. Oh God.

The door was unlocked.

Buddy's voice called through the small apartment. "Lyla! Are you home?"

"Shit," she cursed.

Whatever Buddy was doing outside, he stopped. His voice sounded concerned. "Lyla, sweetheart? Are you alright? I thought I just heard you swear."

This apartment was too damn tiny.

Lyla pushed Tim off the bed. He did a tuck and roll to the other side, just as the door opened. She legitimately screamed, grabbing a t-shirt and holding it up over her chest as Buddy yelped, immediately covering his eyes. "Daddy!" she yelled. Her cheeks flushed pink. "Knock! Always, always knock!"

"Well I'm sorry! I didn't think you would be laying around in your underwear Lyla Mary Garrity!" Buddy still didn't leave, standing in the doorway with his hand over his eyes, speaking quickly. "Are you free tonight?"

I don't know, why? I hope not. Lyla glanced on the other side of the bed, where Tim was as still as anything, looking up and glaring at her. She winced, wearing his t-shirt, since that was the one she'd grabbed. Very slowly, she toed his boots beneath the bed and glanced around for anything else obvious; his jeans were draped over the chair at her desk, but Buddy wasn't looking in that direction and besides, he was generally so oblivious that he would think they were her jeans.

Buddy was talking about some football thing tonight. She frowned; Tim hadn't mentioned a football event already. They still had another two and a half weeks until school started and there was the big pep rally.

She cleared her throat, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Well, Daddy um…I think that I might be…might be free, um…what exactly are we…are we doing?"

"It's a dinner thing, a fundraiser. Everyone's gonna' be there and it's to sort of welcome Tami as the principal instead of the Coach's wife."

Well that was rude, she thought, frowning a little. Mrs. Taylor was the guidance counselor, not the Coach's wife. Or at least, that's not how she should have been known.

Buddy was a misogynist though, which she knew, but she supposed it pissed her off a bit more because she was sick of his crap. All of it. "Daddy," she interrupted, holding her hands up. "Look, I'll go to whatever it is you want me to go to, but Mrs. Taylor is Principal Taylor now and you should treat her like it."

"I am sweetheart, that's why we're throwing her a party from the football team."

You want to start bribing her like you did Principal Woodmere for the last billion years, she thought, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Yeah, fine, I'll go, whatever. Can you please leave my room so I can get dressed? And knock next time Daddy."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Buddy smiled, his hand still covering his eyes. "I'm glad you're here with me Lyla."

Yeah, me too, she thought, rolling her eyes and smiling briefly. "Okay. Let me change, please?"

"Okay. By the way, baby, do you know if Tim Riggins is out of town or something again? I can't seem to get hold of him and Billy's nowhere to be found and I have to have our new tailback there if I'm gonna' get any money from the rest of the Boosters."

Lyla glanced at where Tim was still scowling at her. 'Hurry up!' he mouthed, bent awkwardly against the bed to keep from his feet sticking out where Buddy could see them. She walked over to Buddy, turning and pushing him out of the doorway. "I don't know where Tim is Daddy, probably around, you know him. It's a team function, he's good about those."

"Not always. He ran off to Mexico last year and almost lost us State because he wasn't on the team!"

"Coach let him back on the team Daddy, now come on, I'll go, I'll ask about Tim, but why don't you go back out? Try the Alamo Freeze, maybe he's going over plays with Matt Saracen." Which he probably should have been doing, come to think of it.

Lyla waited until Buddy picked his car keys up from the table again, walking to the door and calling out that he loved her and he'd see her later. Make sure to be at the high school by five for the dinner, he reminded her.

Yeah, yeah. She closed the door, flicked the lock, and turned around, waiting on Tim to unfold himself from the other side of the bed. "That was close," she said, taking off his t-shirt and passing it towards him while she slipped her hand into her dresser, removing a clean robe. "Tim, you really shouldn't be over here like that, it's too small an apartment, my dad could have heard us if we didn't hear him."

"And so what if he did?" Tim mumbled, tugging his jeans on. He folded his t-shirt, holding it up and stretching his arms out to the sides. He tugged it on over his head, jerking his arms into the sleeves.

I'm not going to dignify that with a response, Lyla thought, shoving her feet into flip flops. She opened the door, turning immediately into the kitchen and removing a bottle of water, sipping for a few seconds and shoving her head into the freezer for some cold.

And to think for a brief moment.

Tim really didn't like that they were keeping it secret. I still have to think, she thought again, closing the freezer door. She passed him the rest of the water bottle. "Better get going, you have to pull out your polo shirt and make sure it's clean," she said, flashing a quick smile.

He smiled a little, walking to the front door. "Can you stop by before you go? Unless you're going with your dad."

"He'll probably expect it, why?"

Tim leaned on the open door, flashing a smile before he leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "It needs ironing."

She giggled, slapping his chest and pushing him out of the apartment. "Get out of here."

"Bye!"

"Bye babe," she called, waving.

He smiled a little, but his brow was wrinkled, slightly surprised by the term of endearment. Without saying anything, he just wiggled his eyebrows and waved, walking off to the stairs and whistling.

Lyla leaned on the open door for a brief moment, watching him walk across the parking lot and duck through the bushes. What a good idea to park his truck on the next street in case Buddy came home. It wasn't lost on her that Tim had experience sneaking around and keeping his sex life underwraps. She even heard a rumor he was dating some single mother next door. Had to keep it away from the kid.

She closed the door, returning to her bedroom and hopped into the shower. For the next few hours, she busied herself with preparing for the evening, doing her hair and makeup and picking out a decent outfit. This wasn't cheerleader days, so she didn't have a standard outfit, but she also didn't want to look terrible. It was a team function after all and she was the Booster's daughter.

Around five, she was ready to go, and left with Buddy, who had returned about an hour after Tim left. "Did you ever find Tim?" she asked nonchalantly, sitting in the passenger seat of Buddy's Suburban.

"Hmm….yeah, he was on his way home and I saw him. Stopped and let him know."

Lyla ran her tongue over her teeth. She hoped Buddy didn't have enough care or memory to realize the t-shirt she'd been wearing was on Tim about twenty minutes later. "Oh yeah? How's he doing?"

"You haven't talked to him this summer? I thought you were tutoring him in English or something."

"Yeah," she mumbled, shaking her head. She sighed, looking down at her hands. "That didn't go over really well."

Buddy glanced sideways. "He try to do something to you? Because I will kill him Lyla, just you let me know and I'll talk with him."

You went from willing to kill to talk in the span of a sentence; you wouldn't hurt Tim if someone paid you, he's too valuable a commodity. She glanced sideways, clearing her throat. "So how is it with Tim as tailback? I don't think he'd like that."

"He's okay. Afraid of the ball."

Tim was not afraid of the ball, if you talked to him, he just wasn't used to having to anticipate where Matt was going to be throwing it. He always knew where it would be because that's what he was supposed to do. He also hated not having to really be there to hit people. I like hitting people, he'd bitched to her the other day, when she met him after practice to get something to eat. You don't like it, she'd told him, you're just used to it. You don't like hurting people, it's an outlet. An outlet maybe you don't need anymore.

And then he'd changed the subject about how if she wanted to get into his head and put him on a couch, they better be doing something else other than talking. So they'd gone and done that.

Lyla cleared her throat, whispering. "Yeah, well, maybe he'll surprise you."

They didn't say anything, until Buddy came to a stop in front of the high school. She reached to unbuckle her seatbelt, but Buddy shook his head, clearing his throat. "You know Lyla…I don't know what's going on with you, but…" He glanced sideways, his face impassive.

She froze, waiting on what he was going to say. I don't know what's going on with you, but I saw Tim in your room earlier. I put two and two together. Anything. Very slowly she let go of the seatbelt, hearing it hiss in retraction back into the door.

Her voice remained steady. "But what Daddy?"

Buddy shook his head, removing the keys from the ignition. "Nothing baby. Let's go inside."

Lyla waited a beat, watching him climb from the car, adjusting his too-tight suit jacket over his potbelly and check his reflection in the side mirror of the Suburban. She chuckled, shaking her head and closing her eyes briefly.

That was close.

It was stifling in the Suburban and Buddy was already halfway to the door to the cafeteria. She could hear him shouting hello to people, gladhanding and genuinely being the salesman that he was. Lyla smiled a little, glancing down at the cupholder where she'd set her cell phone to charge on the ride over. She reached for it, removing it and glancing to see some photos sticking out from between the driver's seat and the middle console. Her fingers slipped in and removed them, turning them over in her lap.

They were pictures of her and her siblings. Just some school photos. One of her in a cheerleader outfit, the standard yearbook photos. She smiled, her eyes crinkling up. "I love you too Daddy," she murmured, shaking her head at them. She set them back in their place, hoping they didn't look disturbed and left the truck, closing the door behind her.

Pausing at the cafeteria door to put her phone in her purse, she heard someone call out her name. She turned slowly, glancing at Tyra walking towards her. "Hello," she said, her voice steady. She cleared her throat. "What's going on Tyra?"

This was weird.

Tyra shrugged. "Can't find Julie. Her and Matt are probably off somewhere trying not to be in love with each other. I had to come to this thing for Mrs. Taylor, to help out. That why you're here?"

"Ah…no, my dad thinks the pretty face will get more donations," she said, telling the truth. She stepped into the cafeteria, scanning the dozens of blue polo shirts and khakis walking around, spotting Tim looking like he wanted to take a plastic fork and gouge out his eyes. Matt was at his elbow, going on and on about something.

Scratch that, he was probably contemplating gouging out Matt's eyes.

Beside her Tyra stiffened when Landry waved her over. She turned her head, clearing her throat. "So you and Tim going well?"

I don't talk about Tim, she thought, glancing at Tyra. She cleared her throat. This was just too awkward for words. "Yeah," she mumbled. She looked at her toes. The cowboy boots she'd chosen had a red design at the toe. "Fine."

"Alright, I'm done, I have to get away from Landry before he comes over here."

"Why?" Lyla asked, her brow wrinkled. She shrugged, genuinely curious. "He seems sweet."

"Too sweet," Tyra answered. She ran her tongue over her teeth, turning around completely to face her. At almost a foot taller, she had to look down to meet her eyes. Her voice softened. "Garrity, you want out of this town? I want out of it more. I can't have distractions. Landry is a distraction." She lifted an eyebrow, walking away, calling out. "And so is Tim!"

Yeah, a distraction.

She closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath and sending a prayer that she could make it through this evening without going completely crazy. I thought I gave this stuff up, she thought, taking a plate and walking through the pancake and waffle line, snagging a bottle of orange juice from the cooler and walking by some Rally Girls.

"Have any of you heard what's going on with Tim Riggins this summer?" one of them, Lyla was sure her name was Hillary, demanded, like they all owed her an answer.

Another, with the name 'Rikki' on the breast of her tight t-shirt shook her head, eyes wide. "I hear he's got a girlfriend over in Westerbee. Former stripper so you know he's been there."

"Actually, I heard Tyra Collette got back with him," another gossiped. That piece of gossip was shot down when someone said that she was with 'the geeky guy in the terrible band.'

Aw, Landry's band wasn't terrible, Lyla thought, cutting her pancake as slow as possible beside them, her ears perked and taking in every little sound coming from the Rally Girls.

A voice she recognized as Brittany the Bitch, who transitioned from cheerleading to Rally Girl after the debacle of the cheerleading competition in sophomore year, snorted. "Someone at the Alamo Freeze said they saw him and Lyla Garrity going at it in the library a couple weeks ago."

Oh shit.

"Lyla, careful!" Julie Taylor exclaimed, coming to sit across from her and grabbing the bottle of syrup she was dumping over the pancakes, turning her plate into a pool of liquefied sugar.

She gasped, setting the bottle aside, staring at the mess. "Oh…guess I just…zoned out there." Turning her head over her shoulder, she saw the Rally Girls looking at her curiously. Great.

Lyla dumped the plate, walking out of the cafeteria, right by Tim's table. Please don't get up, please don't get up, she thought repeatedly, cringing when she heard him calling her name. She turned on her heel, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head, waiting impatiently for him.

His shirt was wrinkled beyond belief. "Tim, you didn't iron it," she complained. Why did that bother her?

Tim glanced down at the polo. "I don't have an iron, I told you I wanted you to do it," he teased, reaching to pinch at her waist, but she ducked away. He lifted an eyebrow, scanning around them and leaned against the wall. "Sorry."

No, don't be sorry. Lyla closed her eyes, whispering. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I think we need to keep some distance at these things. Until…until whenever." She turned away from him, walking away.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She didn't like being that abrupt with him, because Tim probably had no idea.

Distraction.

Tim was becoming much, much more than a distraction.

He was becoming part of her life.


	11. Getting the Girl

**Chapter 11: Getting the Girl**

"Hi Julie…um, hi…hi Coach," Matt called, waving his hand a little and smiling like a stupid moron.

Tim glanced over his shoulder, watching Coach and Julie walk from the fieldhouse to the Coach's Explorer. Coach gave them both a quizzical look, his lips set in a frown. He just lifted his fingers, silently waving.

Julie smiled, waving and ducking her head, getting into the SUV.

I bet if I look at Seven, he's going to be catching flies, he thought, rolling his eyes sideways to see that yes, Matt's mouth was open and he was staring after Julie like a puppy. There may as well have been little hearts floating from his eyes like a damn cartoon.

Wow.

Tim punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for? Geez!" Matt exclaimed, rubbing at his shoulder. He shook his head, staring and scowling at once. "What did I do to you?"

"Hit me with the ball about eighty times."

"Because you won't go where I'm putting it!"

"Learn to throw!"

"You learn to catch!"

It was the same fight they always had. Tim wasn't interested in having it again. He gave up, leaning against the fence, the strap of his duffel bag digging into his shoulder. He sighed, glancing back at the field and then towards Saracen. "So what are we gonna' do about this?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "You're gonna' study the playbook."

"Not about that, about this thing with you and Coach's daughter." I feel like I'm in a matchmaking mood. Can't explain it, just feel it.

Maybe it was because him and Lyla were going pretty well and he felt like sharing the wealth, so to speak.

Four weeks, that's how long it had been. An entire month of fun and good sex and good times and…and yeah a couple of times it got serious, but most of the time it was just fun.

"What about me and Julie?"

Tim shrugged, taking the corner of his sunglasses and chewing on the earpiece for a second. He pointed them towards Matt. "You need game."

"I have Landry to tell me that, I don't need you."

"Just go up to her and ask her out, what are you afraid of? You dated her once, Coach didn't kill you then!"

Matt narrowed his eyes, pointing. "Why don't you do that with Lyla Garrity?"

Because I'm already doing it with Lyla Garrity. He lifted his eyebrow, quirking his lip up and smiling. "Who says that I'm not already with her?" That probably wasn't a good thing to say, especially since Lyla had been pretty shifty on the topic of letting people know about them.

Jason apparently knew; that was a surprise to him, but Lyla had said they really didn't have a choice, because he saw them that one night on the football field. He hadn't hung out with Jason long enough since then to hear anything about it, if at all.

He leaned back against the fence again, hearing the links jingle behind him, smiling again at Matt. "And if I'm not, I still know what to do to get her."

"What, stalk her? I'm friends with Julie. I can't stalk her."

"Not stalking," he said, walking away from the fence towards his truck. He shrugged, throwing his bag into the bed of it, leaning against the side, his arms crossing again. He slipped his sunglasses on, scanning the football field. "Just…be friendly. Then one day, you're not friendly. You're seeing each other again."

"Like you and Lyla?"

"What's with the sudden interest in my sex life?"

"What's with the sudden interest in mine!"

"You don't have one," Tim corrected, opening up his driver's side door. He climbed into the cab, leaning on the open window and smiling. That was the difference. "Stop playing around Seven. Just do it. You'll feel a lot better, trust me."

Matt sighed, shaking his head and taking a step backwards. He stopped in his tracks, looking up. "Give me a ride?"

"Where's your girlfriend?"

"I don't have one, that's what we were talking about."

Oh for the love of…Tim shook his head, jerking his thumb back to the passenger seat beside him. "I meant Landry. Whatever, get in."

He drove Matt, who alternatively lamented about the playbook and Julie. Once he dropped him off, promising to look at the playbook, he drove away, leaning against the open window, just taking it all in.

Two weeks until school started.

Senior year.

Then he was done.

Done with homework, with stupid papers, with summer reading. With math problems that he'd never use in real life and with science projects that he would never need to know unless he wanted to be a doctor, which he didn't. Bells ringing and lockers and waking up early…all of it would be done.

He felt his stomach hurt a little.

Football would be done.

There would be no Notre Dame scouts knocking on his door. He wasn't going to the pros. Maybe he could get into a small college with his football, but…it wasn't Panther football. It wasn't the same.

It would be over.

Tim shook his head slightly, shaking the thoughts from his mind. It was football. He still had another ten weeks of football and then State. It would be good. He'd just get through stupid school, would play his football, and he'd have a good time.

Make some memories.

And he had a good woman with him to do it all too.

Lovely Lyla.

My Lyla, he thought, slightly possessive. She was her own Lyla, of course, but she was his Lyla too. He stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank and dropped inside, grabbing a Gatorade. As he walked out, he glanced sideways, seeing a few little girls sitting at a stand with a bunch of flowers.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, approaching it. He flashed a smile. "You guys pick these yourselves?"

"Yup," one of them, with bright red curls chirped. She held up a bouquet, tied with a ribbon. "Only two dollars."

Her little partner, who had giant glasses, looking up, giggling. "Are they for your girrrlfriend?" she drawled, giggling again. Their chaperone, a mother or someone, stood behind them, smiling a little.

"Maybe she'll be my girlfriend after I give her the flowers," Tim answered.

"Are you a Panther?" the redhead demanded.

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm full…" He sighed. "Tailback."

"Did you win State?" the other asked.

What's with the third degree, he wondered, but politely answered their questions. They were only five or six after all. "I did win State."

"Where's your ring? My daddy has a ring," one of them said; they were beginning to talk over each other, so he had no idea which one was asking him what.

"Ah…"

Finally, one of the mothers intervened, politely telling them to quit, give him the change and let him on his way. They continued to giggle, giving him both shy smiles. Tim half-expected hearts to be coming out of their eyes.

He gave them both three bucks each for their cuteness and took the bouquet of wildflowers, flashing them another smile. He waved, climbing up into the truck and driving away.

Where would Lyla be now, he wondered, not wanting to drop by the apartment. He drove around for a few minutes, until he drove by one of the parks where the little Pee Wee players practiced, seeing her car in the parking lot.

Perfect.

He parked beside her and got out, carrying the little bouquet tightly in his fist, which was beginning to sweat. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought, seeing her sitting at a picnic table, a book in her hands. He cocked his head as he approached, recognizing that she was reading the Bible.

Good for you Garrity.

"Hey," he called, stopping in front of her table.

Lyla looked up, smiling. "Hi," she whispered. She frowned slightly, but her smile was still flirting on her lips. She nodded to the flowers. "Are you meeting someone else?"

Twisting them to her, he smiled. "For the lady."

"Well thank you," she said, accepting the flowers. She twisted the ribbon around, smiling up at him, beaming. It's just flowers Garrity, he thought, hopping up to sit on the table, crossing his legs Indian-style. She leaned back, sniffing them, her eyes meeting his. "They're very pretty. I like wildflowers."

"Got them from two very beautiful girls," he said, deciding to have some fun with this.

Her face darkened slightly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. They flirted shamelessly."

"They did? Who were they?"

You're jealous. I love when you get jealous, he thought, smiling wide. He shook his head, trying to contain his laughter. He tossed his hair from his eyes, letting his hand fall down to his knee. "And they were probably six. They were from the elementary school, probably selling for PTA or something like that."

Lyla's eyebrows slammed together. "What?" she demanded, her voice hard. She set the flowers on the table and pushed at him, laughing. "You were trying to make me jealous?"

"It's actually not hard," he said, leaning down and kissing her lightly. He smiled against her lips, whispering. "You're adorable when you're jealous."

"Shut up."

"And you can be mean. I love it."

"I'm serious, shut up." She leaned up, pushing him back onto the picnic table, smiling and kissing him harder. A moment later, she fell back down onto the bench, taking the flowers again and smiling, fingering the petals of one of the violets. "I love violets," she whispered, touching the happy face of one. "It's like they're smiling."

I'm glad you like them. You deserve happy things.

Tim leaned back over his knees, glancing down at the Bible she'd turned over on the table. He picked it up, turning the first of the tissue-paper thing pages. "This Bible is bestowed upon Lyla Mary Garrity, 5 September 1990, may she seek purpose and wisdom using it's words." He closed the cover, setting it back down on the table. "That's nice."

"I got it when I was born. I've always had it," she whispered. She tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling up at him. "You should come to church with me on Sunday. I know you won't burst into flames, since you were showing up nonstop last year."

He chuckled, lifting his eyebrows. "Yeah, well I had an ulterior motive."

"Using God to get a girl, low Tim, really, really low," she said, but she was still smiling. Eventually, she rolled her eyes, taking the Bible and zipping the cover back together, placing it in her bag. She folded her hands together on the table. "So what are we going to do tonight?"

Tim leaned in, giving her another kiss and whispering. "I think we should hang out with Jason. He's got the baby tonight. Might need some help."

"That sounds lovely. I haven's seen Noah in forever." She got up from the table, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She set off towards the parking lot and he trotted after her, reaching down to tuck his fingers into hers, but she turned her hand away.

Okay, so we're still not doing that. Good to know.

Tim shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He cleared his throat obviously, since Lyla wasn't saying anything. "So I guess Matt and Julie are…"

"Tim."

He stopped, turning to face her when they reached the edge of the parking lot. She was smiling up at him, shaking her head. "It's okay," she said. She laughed. "We don't need to talk about…gossip or anything. Are you looking at the playbook?"

You and Matt, geez. He ran his tongue over his teeth, shrugging. "Matt's flirting with Julie again, he's not interested in the playbook."

"My dad says that JD kid is really, really good and he's getting pressure to put pressure on Coach."

What? Pressure to do what?

Lyla continued, answering his unspoken questions. She opened up her car door, speaking quietly. "My dad was talking on the phone last night to some of the other Boosters. I guess they're saying this kid is better than Jason. They want Coach to start him. They're going to bring it up at the press conference next week."

He hated how Coach got all that crap from people that knew nothing about football. Coach was a good guy. He didn't deserve it. "Well Matt won state. This cat is like five. He won't play at all this season."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, shrugging. "I'm just telling you what I heard my dad talking about. His dad is really rich and he's used to buying his way into anything. Coach Taylor is a good guy, but something tells me that if the Boosters and this McCoy guy want something, they're going to get it and Coach can't stand in their way. Matt just…" She sighed, whispering, looking down at his feet. "I think that if you study the playbook and you help Matt…you might have a say in whether or not he stays at QB1."

Since when were you interested in internal football crap? He certainly wasn't. he shook his head, whispering. "Seven won State. It doesn't matter if I study that book or not, he's a good quarterback. He'll play."

Lyla didn't say anything, but slipped her arms around his waist. "I'm just telling you, as your little football spy," she teased, smiling up at him. He bent his knees, lowering himself to her height so she didn't have to stand on his feet. Not that he minded, he liked when she did that too sometimes.

She touched her forehead against his, whispering. "Not that you care much about football politics."

"Nope."

"Didn't think so."

He brushed his nose over hers, whispering. "School starts in two weeks."

"Actually it's almost a week and a half. Why?"

"No reason." Just wondering what's going to become of us when school starts. He supposed it didn't matter. He just…he was having mixed feelings about her, well, mixed feelings.

No regrets, he thought, kissing her again. Don't think about it. Don't worry about it. Just live. Enjoy it while its here. Make memories. Every one of his little mantras.

He let go of her, stepping over to his truck and glancing over his shoulder. "I'll pick you up, we'll go to Six's house."

"Okay. Do you think we should bring him some food? I'll pick up a pizza."

"Okay, I guess." He drove away from the park, smiling when he saw her sitting in her car for a moment, sniffing the flowers again and smiling. Good. He wanted her to be happy.

A couple of hours later, he drove them up to Jason's apartment, heading on inside with Lyla bringing up the rear. He opened the door without knocking, stepping inside. "Pizza's here!" he shouted.

And immediately a baby started crying.

A shoe flew somewhere near the vicinity of his knees. "Sorry," he whisper-shouted to Jason, who was scowling from the living room and wheeling himself towards the crying baby in a carrier, sitting on the floor.

"What did you do already?" Lyla wondered, closing the door behind her. She set the pizza on the counter, along with the six-pack of Coke, while he set the six-pack of beer beside it. She stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, kneeling down and cooing at Noah.

He watched, feeling his stomach kind of hurt at seeing her with a baby. She was very good. He was pretty sure that if God had wanted to create the perfect human, He'd done so with Lyla Garrity.

"Careful Riggins, your heart is showing," Jason said, wheeling up behind him and taking a can of Coke. He smiled up at him. "I didn't know she was coming with you tonight?"

"Ah…yeah, figured it might be okay." He glanced down at her, whispering, his brow wrinkling. Did he mess up? "It is okay, isn't it?"

"Fine. Just surprised."

The baby's cries wore off a moment later, Lyla carrying him into the kitchen. She looked at both of them, smiling. "What?" she chuckled. She patted Noah's back, swaying lightly with him. "He's a chunker Jason, how much did he weigh at his last appointment?"

"Fourteen pounds."

"Oh my, big boy," she cooed, patting Noah's back again. A little hand reached up, grabbing for her hair. She smiled, letting him pull at it, turning around and walking off, telling him what a big boy he was and how good he was for no longer crying.

Jason looked up, laughing. "You should see your face Riggins."

"I don't like that look."

"She's Lyla, Tim, she doesn't want kids right now, she wants to get to college."

Yes, but still. He flicked open the pizza box, pulling out a slice and eating it over the table, talking through hot cheese and pepperoni, looking down at Jason, who was bringing over paper plates. "She's a girl, she wants babies. It's like reflex."

"Not all girls want babies, believe me, Erin wasn't thrilled."

"That's cause' it was you. I wouldn't be thrilled if you got me pregnant."

"Have you been drinking already?"

"Just one." For the road.

Lyla came back into the kitchen, taking a paper plate and placing his pizza on it, returning it to his hand while she got one for herself. "So what are you little boys talking about in here?" she asked, selecting a slice of pizza and promptly scowling. "Tim, I said no onions!"

"And I said onions. Pick them off."

Lyla made a face, scraping her onions onto his plate. "Gross," she complained.

"Ew, get this off," he whined, shoving his plate at her. He'd had to put peppers on it, because Six liked peppers and so did Lyla. "They look like boogers."

"They're peppers Tim, grow up," she said, picking off peppers from the pizza.

After they both traded toppings, he heard Jason's laugh. He glanced over his shoulder. "What?" he asked.

"I never realized how weird you both were until now."

"We're not weird," Lyla said.

"Sure," Jason replied. He wheeled himself into the living room, setting the plate on the coffee table and glancing at Noah, who was looking at them all with wide eyes and moving hands. He grinned wide. "Isn't he just great?"

Tim narrowed his eyes on the baby. He looked like a potato with feet and hands. Although he was pretty cute. He bit into his pizza, speaking through the food. "Kinda' looks like Herc."

"Shut up Riggins."

"Hey Garrity, what would you do if I said I was pregnant?"

Lyla didn't take the bait, choosing to take a seat on the couch, crossing her legs and bouncing her boot up and down, taking a bite of her pizza and chewing for a minute. She swallowed, glancing sideways, smiling. "Well, first I would want to know who you're cheating on me with and then I'd make a ton of money off of you."

"Good plan, good plan." He glanced back at Noah, who had his eyes on him. Six told him awhile ago that he couldn't see very far, but he was getting bigger and soon he would start to notice bright colors.

Must have seen the bright blue Dillon shirt he was wearing. He set the plate of pizza aside, dusting his hands off and getting up, walking over to kneel down at Noah's carrier, reaching in to pick him up.

"Tim," Jason warned.

I'm not going to drop him, he thought, feeling Noah's tiny fingers instantly curl into his shirt. He glanced at the kid, making a face. Noah's eyes widened a little in surprise and then he made an 'ah' sound, his mouth forming a perfect little 'o.'

He mimicked the kid's movement, which had Noah making a wider 'o' with his mouth.

"Make sure to hold his head."

He glanced down at Jason, rolling his eyes. "Hey Jay, relax, he's fine." I'm holding his head, I'm not stupid. He narrowed his eyes at Noah, who screwed up his face a little, whining. Okay, we don't like that face.

"You know Jason, I think Tim may have met his intellectual match."

"Hey now, my son is much smarter."

"You know Noah, I think they're making fun of us," he said, carrying Noah over to sit beside Lyla, stretching his feet out to the coffee table and setting the baby against his chest, turning him around to face Jason. He lifted him up a little so that Noah could see Jason.

And he immediately began to huff and puff, bouncing his feet a little.

"Good boy, knowing who your daddy is, huh?" Jason cooed, rolling his chair over and reaching to pinch at Noah's bare toes, which were curling up and down.

Pretty weird that Six was a dad, he thought, glancing down at Noah. Kind of looked like him too. He couldn't imagine it if he had a kid right now. There was too much going on. Football….that was pretty much it, but it was still a lot.

He glanced sideways at Lyla, who was just smiling serenely, drawing her feet up beneath her and leaning back against the armrest of the couch. "You know," he said, lifting Noah up again, passing him to Jason. "This kid is the first kid in our group."

"I know," Lyla whispered. She shook her head, sighing hard. "It's so weird. I mean gosh, Jason, you and I were going to have kids. How many did we decide?"

"Um, I think we ended up on four," Jason said, turning Noah to face them. He smiled down at his son, bouncing his feet. "Although one is quite enough, if I do say so myself and he doesn't even live with me full time."

Four kids? That was a lot of smelly diapers. Tim slouched farther back on the couch, reaching to rest his hand on Lyla's ankle, stilling the bouncing movement. It drove him crazy when she did that. He turned slightly, peering up at her. "You guys talked about that stuff?"

She nodded, glancing down at her fingers, shrugging. "Yeah," she whispered. She smiled again. "I guess…we just wanted everything planned down to the wire. What was it Jason? A girl, twin boys, and a girl?"

"I think that was the plan. Only after we graduated, had been married for five years, and I was settled in with whatever football team would have me as a pro." Jason shook his head, laughing a little. He sighed, the laughter falling away as he glanced back down at Noah. He kissed the top of his little bald head, whispering. "Funny how things turn out."

Very funny, he thought, glancing sideways to Lyla, who was looking down at her fingers. He cleared his throat. Enough seriousness. "Where's the Nintendo Jason? I have to beat Garrity at Mario Kart from last time."

"I don't think anyone can beat Herc's score, so you have your work cut out for you."

"That's cause' he has nothing better to do than play all day, where is he anyway?" Lyla asked, sitting up and taking the controller that he passed her. He flicked on the TV and the Nintendo, leaning back against the couch.

Jason put Noah back in his carrier, moving it away from the brightness of the television screen. "He's got some girl he's seeing down at the rec center. It's gross, I have to hear about it all the time."

Lyla got up, taking their trash and empty drink containers. "You want anything to drink Jason while I'm up?"

"Get me another beer please."

"Baby you want one too?" Lyla called.

He froze, glancing down at the controller in his hands. He swallowed hard, looking up at Jason, who pretended he didn't hear it, busying himself with Noah's blankets. He cleared his throat; Lyla didn't seem to realize she'd slipped. "Ah, yeah, get me one too."

Lyla returned, passing them their beers and flopping back on the couch, taking the controller. "Okay, I'm going to beat your ass at Mario Kart, but I get to be the little dinosaur this time."

"Yoshi," they both said at the same time.

"Whatever."

Jason took a sip of his beer, swallowing hard. He cleared his throat. "So ah…you guys…you guys seeing each other...like dating...or...whatever the kids are calling it these days?"

Lyla turned her head slowly. She shrugged, saying nothing.

That was a good question. It had been over a month. Four and a half weeks. School started soon. They were going to have to figure it out, he thought, selecting the level where they last left off, the screen splitting into two as the game started. He hit pause, waiting for Lyla to say something, since she was the one who seemed to be the boss of this whole thing. Not that he liked that, but…it was on her terms.

She said nothing, sipping her drink and setting the beer bottle back on the coffee table. Fine. You don't want to answer, then I will. "We're friends," he lied, looking straight at Jason.

Make your own conclusion Jason.

"Yes," she whispered, hitting 'start' and focusing her attention on the TV. "We're friends."

Friends that have spent the better part of every single night together for the last four and a half weeks, but you know, just friends. Because friends do that sort of thing. And friends call each other 'baby' and friends take the other person to the hospital and the lake and bring each other flowers and help each other study and everything else like that. Well…maybe friends did some of those things, but he still thought they were more than that.

Whatever.

"I'm going to kick your ass," he announced, watching Mario flail about the screen in his little go-kart.

"Forget you, I'm going to win, I think I'm getting the hang of this game."

And for the rest of the night, they alternated between playing with Noah and kicking each other's ass at Mario Kart, until Herc came home and they had to hear all about his date.

Somewhere in there, he'd ended up leaning against Lyla, with her arm around his shoulder, not thinking anything of it. Not even when Jason gave them both a knowing look.

Not even when he felt the four beers he'd had start to wear on him.

Friends.

Sure, Garrity, whatever you say.


	12. Boyfriend, Girlfriend

**Chapter 12: Boyfriend, Girlfriend**

"Aw, he's had a lot of excitement, look at him."

Lyla smiled, tucking a blanket over Tim's shoulders, turning his head a little on the couch cushion so he could breathe easier. She frowned slightly at one of the stuffed dinosaur animals she'd bought for Noah when he was born, now clutched in Tim's arms as he slept off the six-pack he'd had that night.

She kept meaning to get on him about his drinking, but…I'm not his girlfriend, she thought to herself.

Not officially.

I don't even know if I will be, when school started. Besides, she knew he was getting nervous about school starting and it being his final year. All the drinking today was probably just his way of coping. Not the best way, but...his way.

Jason reached for his phone, sitting on the coffee table, fiddling with it for a moment and then held it out, snapping a photo of Tim curled up like a baby, holding a stuffed animal and sleeping with his mouth open slightly. All he needed was his thumb in his mouth.

Lyla reached down, taking his hand and positioning his thumb to his lips. "Good to go."

"You are so mean."

"He shouldn't have had a six-pack, he knows that means he's going to do something stupid, pass out, and wake up puking the minute his eyes get a bit of sun."

"Put a bucket next to him or something because I am not waking up to that."

She smiled, fixing Tim back to normal, her fingertips trailing over his hair. She got up from the couch, turning to Jason, nodding towards his room. "You can get to bed, I'll just clean up a bit and leave. I'll get him in the morning."

Jason sighed, looking down at his hands. Uh-oh, she thought, sensing that look. He wanted to talk. Might as well. It was stupid, coming here tonight. Maybe she had been with Tim for too long. It felt so comfortable around him and she'd stupidly slipped and called him 'baby.' Ugh. Why did she do that? It was the dumbest thing ever.

I need to figure this shit out, she thought, stepping out of the apartment onto the small little porch, Jason following. He turned his chair around in the corner of the little porch, hitting the brake and folding his hands in his lap, looking up at her. Go on, she thought, sitting down on a stepstool. She wanted to know why there was a stool in the apartment of two people in wheelchairs, but didn't ask. She drew her hands beneath her knees, tugging her jeans tight around her knees and setting her feet together.

Come on Jason stop stalling. Just ask. Just say it.

"You know," he began. He stopped abruptly. Waited a moment and closed his eyes, speaking quietly. "I told you Tim was happy with you and…and I didn't think…I thought I would be happy for him and I am, I am happy for him, but…this is hard Lyla. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered. I don't know what's happening right now, but…okay. She reached up, pushing her bangs from her face, lifting her eyes to meet Jason's lighter ones across the small space.

It was so weird how they could be friends. After all they'd been through, she could sit here across from him and not resent him for kissing that other girl and him not resent her for sleeping with his best friend. Or trying to understand the pain the other was going through because of his accident.

She bit her bottom lip, lifting her eyes back to Jason's, smiling slightly. "You know Jason…I love you. I was so in love with you. You were the first boy I ever…ever loved. The first man, I guess." She bit her lip hard, drawing blood. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. I don't know where I'm going with this.

Jason smiled sadly. He closed his eyes, nodding. "I know."

"And with Tim right now…I don't know…know what's going to happen."

"Yeah." He looked up again, whispering. "He loves you Lyla. I think he always has. I mean…you and I were together since seventh grade, but…but I moved here in seventh grade and met you guys and…and Tim and you though…"

Yeah. She guessed she knew where he was going with this. I'm not going to say anything, because I really…really don't know. Tim…Tim said he was in love with me, but I…I honestly answered. I didn't love him. Maybe I do now. People could change. He had. So had she.

"And…and he won't tell you that he wants to be with you," Jason continued, keeping his voice calm and steady. He smiled again. "It was a lot for him last year to say he wanted to be with you and I think he doesn't want to mess it up so he won't tell you and you have to…to be the one, but…you guys just aren't friends and I can say that because I am your friend."

Yeah. You are. You're a very good friend. One of my best friends. If not the best.

And who was the other, she thought, biting at her bottom lip. She closed her eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks, laughing slightly. "I…" She wiped at her eyes quickly, blinking through it and staring across at him. It was insane, this was just…this was insane.

This feeling inside of her was crazy. "I don't know," she said, stopping and starting her words, until finally she had them all together in her head, slowly whispering them out to him. "I don't know if I love Tim, but…I mean…if I do, well…" She sniffed, laughing and looking across at him. "Then I am probably the only girl who has two best friends who happen to be guys and who…who fell in love with both of them."

It was absolutely crazy.

Jason smiled softly, nodding in understanding. "Yeah. You're pretty lucky." He shrugged, whispering. "I just wanted you to know that, because…well because your senior year is starting and I just think that…that you and Tim aren't just friends with benefits. Or that he'll be happy or that you'll be happy if you leave it like that, but I know it's hard. I know it's a lot because well…"

Lyla glanced over her shoulder, looking into the apartment, sighing hard. She shook her head at the sight of Tim. Whether she loved him or not, she wasn't sure, but…she knew she didn't want to explain to her father why she was with a guy who was passed out after having a six-pack of beer and holding a stuffed animal while he slept.

It was hard enough to be taken seriously in this town with her family's history. With her history.

And then to have Tim Riggins as her boyfriend?

How was she supposed to take him seriously?

He still wouldn't do the summer reading work she'd helped him with, even though he understood the material fine. He refused to open that damn playbook, even when the team was counting on him. He knew what happened when he drank uncontrollably, but he didn't care.

I don't know Jason, I really don't know what to do with him.

She sighed, turning around and gathering her purse and reaching for Tim's keys. Tossing her hair from her eyes, she gestured down to him. "I'll get him in the morning. Thanks for tonight Jason. I needed it." It had been fun to let go. To play games and sit with Noah, the little sweetheart, and just enjoy time with…with her best friends. And to not think of the future or…or her father or…well just everything else.

Other than Tim, she thought, glancing down at him. She sighed, lowering her lips to his, kissing lightly and patting his chest, right over his heart. He shifted a little, his hand covering hers. "I gotta' go," she whispered into his ear, slowly releasing her fingers from beneath his. She kissed him again, her eyes closed. "You have to quit drinking so much Tim. I can't do this every night."

I won't do this every night.

She let go of him and waved goodbye to Jason, leaving the apartment and going to Tim's truck, climbing up into the driver's seat. She sighed, staring down at the three pedals. Crap. Stick shift, she forgot. Tim taught her once, when he was drunk and couldn't drive. He'd been sitting beside her thought, telling her when to hit the clutch and when to switch gears. She closed her eyes, mumbling to herself. "I am Lyla Garrity…" She shoved the key into the ignition, continuing to talk to herself.

"And I am…top of my class…" The engine made a terrible grinding sound as she put it into reverse, jumping slightly at the noise. "And…I got a 1500 on my SATs…"

"I also am the sort-of-but-not-really girlfriend of Tim Riggins," she grumbled, jumping again as the truck lurched forward. She stopped at the light at the end of the drive. Okay. Deep breaths…she shook her head at the dashboard. "Okay old girl, you listen to him, so please, please listen to me and I cannot believe I am talking to a truck!"

A moment later, the truck was rumbling peacefully down the street. She grinned, patting the steering wheel like it was a dog. Wow, she was driving a stick. Nice. She smiled, continuing along to Tim's house, leaving the truck in the drive and collecting her car, driving back to the apartment.

It was really late, so she was surprised to find her father still awake, watching the late night news and kicked back in his chair with a beer. She turned around, closing and locking the door behind her. "Hey Daddy," she greeted him, smiling and walking to stand beside his chair.

Buddy muted the television, looking up with a smile. "Hello Lyla baby, did you have a good night with your friends?"

"Um, yeah, I…I was at Jason's." It would probably do good for her to have…have a conversation with her father. Tim had been asking her some questions about it. Did they talk a lot? Did they hang out? Did they get dinner together? They were very Un-Riggins like questions to ask, but…she felt bad that the answer to a lot of them was no, not really, and never.

She folded her hands beneath her thighs, seated on the loveseat. "Jason had Noah tonight, so we just hung out and watched the baby together."

Buddy's eyes slid away from the muted television, the beer hovering near his lips. He shook his head, his voice quiet. "Lyla Garrity so help me if you say that you are going to be dating Jason Street and helping with his baby…"

"No!" she exclaimed, laughing a little. She shook her head. Good Lord, that would be something, wouldn't it? "No, Daddy, Jason loves Erin, Noah's mother? They just don't live together." I don't quite know why. He loved Erin and by all accounts, it seemed Erin loved him, but…she supposed they were problems that were just greater than the biggest one she had right now of what to do with a hungover Riggins tomorrow.

She pushed her hair from her eyes, leaning back in the loveseat, whispering. "No, Daddy, you don't need to worry about me and Jason. We're just friends. Good friends." Best friends.

"Good. Now what's this I hear about you…" He waved his hand, grumbling. "Carrying on with Tim Riggins?"

Excuse me!? She frowned, her lips pursing. That could mean something one way or another way. "Um…what do you mean carrying on?" she asked. Best to just get it out slowly. She was running through their various rendezvous in her head. The only one in public that was really something where they could have been caught was in the library and everything else had been rumor.

Even the Rally Girls had kind of stopped talking about it; the other night Tyra was picking Mindy up and made a comment about how they all just assumed Tim had found some rich woman in another town to bang for the summer.

Well that was better than what some had been thinking.

She guessed.

Buddy turned the chair to face her, setting his beer bottle on the floor next to him. He leaned forward, his eyes meeting hers and keeping his voice quiet. "I know someone that said you took him to the ER? You didn't want to tell me that Tim Riggins injured himself? Two weeks before the first game of the season?"

Oh good Lord.

"Daddy that was like three weeks ago, he's fine now. He needed a ride because his truck wasn't working and I gave him a ride." She got up from the couch, taking his empty beer bottle and setting it in the sink, opening the fridge to get them both bottles of water. "He's a friend Daddy."

"I was just wondering, I mean, we have a trainer and we can't be out a tailback, we already have that QB problem."

Yes, the new kid in town. She felt bad for Matt. Just another stupid Dillon football hypocrisy. Use up the guy that saved your ass after treating him like crap and then throw him aside and treat him like crap again when something new and shiny came along.

Lyla nodded, shaking her head slightly and clearing her throat. "Alright, I'm going to go to bed."

"Lyla?"

She paused in her doorway, turning, smiling quickly at him. "Yeah?"

Buddy smiled. "Good night. I love you!"

Yeah. She flashed another smile, whispering. "I love you too." It wasn't so bad. She closed the door behind her, setting the bottle of water on her dresser and proceeded to ready for bed.

Once she'd changed, she took her computer to her bed, crawling beneath the covers and setting it on her lap, opening up the photos she'd downloaded from her camera earlier that morning, just for something to do. She brought up the file, smiling at one of the first ones, the most recent, pop up.

It was one she'd taken of her and Tim, lying in the same lawn chair in his backyard, when she'd been tanning and he'd been goofing off, crawling in beside her. He was drunk, of course, and had just finished some fight with Billy. He'd lost his shirt, somehow and was trying to put hers on when she'd distracted him with the camera. Ultimately she'd snapped them both acting stupid, with his head sticking out of the neckline of her t-shirt.

Look at me, she thought, smiling briefly. I look happy.

It was fun, it was supposed to be happy. Happy, happy fun.

I don't know what this is.

I can't tell my father until I know what this is and until then…Lyla sighed, closing the laptop and setting it beneath her bed, flicking off the light and curling into her pillows.

Until she knew what it was and told her father, no one in Dillon would know that she and Tim Riggins were…whatever they were. She supposed it was boyfriend, girlfriend, but that could be verified later, she thought with a tiny smile.


	13. The End of Summer

**A/N:**Dumping this story due to lack of interest. I only had two chapters anyway and will be without internet for a few days. Hope that those who read this enjoyed it for what it was worth- a break from something serious even if it's not two characters who generally get a lot of attention on this site. Might be back for another story after the break but I'll think about it. Anyway, enjoy to those still reading.

* * *

**Chapter 13: End of Summer**

"How long have we been…doing this thing now?"

She glanced up at Tim, shrugging and walking along the beach, her fingers sliding through his, swinging their hands lightly together. "I don't know…like six weeks, maybe?"

Actually yeah, it had been about six weeks. Wow. More than a month.

This had to be Tim's longest relationship, she thought, glancing up at him and pausing. She crossed her arms over her chest, smiling at him. "Did you write your paper for _The Idiot_?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Yes."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Why I would I lie?"

"You wouldn't," she said, shrugging a little. She just hadn't seen the paper yet. Maybe he was surprising her with it. She sighed. It didn't really matter, did it? School started tomorrow and whether his paper was done or not at least…hell at least she tried.

I got Tim Riggins to at least understand Russian Literature. That should be enough.

And it was enough, because she couldn't get him to do anything he didn't want to do, whether she gave him sex in return or forced him at gunpoint. When Tim had his heels dug in, no one and nothing could get him out.

Besides, school started tomorrow…she had things to think about. Vanderbilt to think about.

Her fingers tightened a little around herself, glancing at the lake and then lifted her eyes up to his, whispering. "You read the playbook yet?"

Tim ran his tongue over his teeth, whispering. "Not yet, but I will."

I hope you will. You're a good football player, you just…you need to see it isn't just about you sometimes. It's about the team. She stepped towards him, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck, whispering. "It's not against you Tim, you can play, but…you need to know those plays, to help out Matt."

"Yeah, I got it, I know."

"I'm just saying," she murmured, her lips brushing over his. She smiled, her forehead touching his as she leaned forward into him, her foot kicking up behind her. He smiled, falling back a little on his feet. "Don't drop me."

"Hmmm…" he mumbled, smiling against her mouth, his voice husky. "Why would I drop you?"

I don't know. Because you can be an ass when you want to be. She smiled, her feet dragging in the sand as he turned her in a couple of circles, his arms around her waist, holding tight.

He wouldn't drop me.

You love me, she thought, her eyes meeting his. Yes, you do.

And son of a bitch Tim, but I might love you too.

It had been six weeks! Just six weeks of fun and sex and good times and just not…not much thinking about things. Yeah, they studied together a couple of times, but that was because for some reason she wanted to help him to get to college. It could happen and she hated seeing his apathy show.

Most of the time he was at football. They hung out in the evenings, when he wasn't with Billy or when they could get away and hide. Sure, Billy knew about them, but she didn't trust him to keep it quiet, so Tim mostly had to sneak into her room. Which could get tricky.

She'd felt like she'd been flying for six weeks.

Now she was coming back to earth.

"You want to meet tomorrow?" she whispered, letting go of him and spinning under his arm, her fingers in his. She swayed back and forth, her hands around his, tugging him with her down the beach. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Get coffee or breakfast or something?"

He caught up to her a little, his arms pinning hers against her side, almost jumping on her. She giggled, turning her head back and accepting the kiss he gave her. She spun around again, her arms stretching up in the air and did a cartwheel into the sand, bouncing up onto her feet.

Senior year. "We're seniors!" she yelled, turning in circles, her arms outstretched and her hair flying around her face. She pushed it from her eyes, stopping to catch her breath and allow the dizziness to pass.

"We've always been older than our years Garrity."

"Tim just because you started drinking at twelve doesn't mean you're older than your years." She knelt down and picked up a rock, tossing it between her hands, smiling and lifting her eyebrow in his direction. "But I know what you mean."

He picked up a rock at her feet, turning to skip it across the lake. The water lapped lightly at their bare feet, turning the sand and the dirt into mud. He pushed his hand through his hair, shaking it out to his shoulders.

It was getting really long. She reached up, flicking at the ends, pushing some behind his ear and smoothing her fingers over his jaw. As she did so, he linked his arm around her waist, bringing her against him, and tilting her hips towards his. "You need to cut your hair," she murmured, her forehead touching his again.

They always seemed to end up like this.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not cutting it. Not until it's as long as yours," he teased.

"Then how would people tell us apart?" she replied, chuckling against his lips. She let go, dancing backwards, holding her arms out as he ran at her, tackling her slightly in the mud. She giggled, letting go and turning, running off down the shoreline.

It was the last day of summer, so to speak. School would be starting tomorrow and football this Friday. It was big. Most of the kids were taking advantage of the last day at the pool or hanging out at the movies or around town. It was slightly chilly as the sun was beginning to set and many had abandoned the lake earlier in the day.

The fact that no one was really hanging around was a good reason for the two of them to be there. They could act like…well a couple, for lack of a better term. She still hadn't broached any subject about what they were.

Take it day by day, she told herself, jumping up into his arms, her legs going around his waist. He spun her around again and she smiled, looking down at him. He stared back, his hazel eyes deep and dark. He smiled slightly, his eyes narrowing. "What?" he whispered.

"Nothing," she replied. She kissed him, whispering. "I'm really glad that you read the summer reading."

"I didn't, you read it to me."

"Same difference." At least you sat still through it, you answered questions, and you talked about the subject and everything. You understood it Tim. She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder, whispering. "I just don't understand why you think you can't do things. Why you think you're not worth it."

Even if that might not be the true answer, she thought, letting go of him when he said nothing. She walked away again, kneeling down in the mud at the base of the lake, dragging her finger through the water.

He came up to kneel beside her, whispering. "I don't think I'm not worth it."

Then how come you won't just try? I believe you can do it. She turned her face towards his, brushing stray strands of dark hair from her forehead, whispering. "You can go to a decent college Tim. I know you can. Maybe not Harvard, but something local…I know you can and I guess I just get frustrated when you think you can't."

He didn't say anything. His eyes darted out to the lake, staring across at the sun setting over the trees. There were a couple of small boats out on it; people taking advantage before the world returned to its routine tomorrow.

What are you thinking, she wondered. She hoped that she didn't overstep herself with him. It's true Tim, I don't know why you think so poorly of yourself. She flicked her fingers in the water, removing some of the mud and standing, watching her feet sink in it for a moment before she stepped back, turning away from him, leaving him with his thoughts.

A few minutes later, he caught up with her, walking over to a pile of rocks. She climbed up on a big boulder, dangling her feet over it and waiting for him to sit beside her. He nudged his shoulder against hers. "You want to hang out tomorrow after practice?"

She shrugged. "I guess." Pushing her fingers through her hair, she let it fall over her shoulders, turning to scan the lake. This place was really beautiful. I'm glad we can escape here.

"You're spending the night at my place tonight, right?"

Her lips pursed and she shook her head. "No. I think since school's starting tomorrow I should wake up at home, in case my dad…I don't know." She smiled quickly. It had been so nice to go to sleep with him and yeah, sometimes waking up he wasn't there, but that was just logistics. Couldn't have Buddy knocking on her door and Tim sleeping in the small twin bed with her.

She brushed her lips along his jaw, smiling stupidly. "You could come over…for a couple hours only, no spending the night."

"Garrity I'm wondering if you're ashamed of me," he teased.

I'm not ashamed, she instantly thought. She just didn't know what to call it. She kissed him again, not answering, her eyes brightening up. "No, I just don't want to deal with my father, especially because you snore."

"I snore? I don't think so, I think that is you." He poked her in the chest, lightly pushing her back.

She pushed him back in return. "No! I don't snore! I'm a lady and ladies don't snore."

He grabbed her around her shoulders, bringing her back against his chest as they fell back onto the flat, warm rock. He laughed, pulling her over his chest, whispering against her lips. "You do too."

"Shut up," she giggled, her arms returning to around his neck. She let her hands fall, trailing across his broad shoulders and down his arms to his hands, removing them from where they were beginning to dip into the back pockets of her jean shorts, and lifted them up over his head, having to force it at one point because he started to push back.

He lifted his eyebrows, impressed. "You are freakishly strong."

"I was a cheerleader Tim, but I didn't just shout out rhymes," she murmured, smiling again. Her voice grew husky. "I have tremendous upper body strength. I'd be happy to show you sometime."

"I look forward to it."

She braced herself above him, pinning her knees on either side of his hips, and kissed him again. I like kissing you, she thought, her hand slipping out of his and cupping his jaw, holding him steady while she deepened the kiss.

It was so pleasant, to not have a care in the world and have no one looking for her, to just lie here on a rock with him, listening to the water lap lightly at the mud and the base of the rocks. It wouldn't necessarily be that way for awhile, as school got started.

You calm me down a bit, she thought, opening her eyes, surprised to see that he'd been watching her. It sometimes freaked her out, that Tim could kiss with his eyes open. She joked he was part lizard or something, but he said he liked watching her face.

She didn't hide herself.

She propped her head up on her hand, looking down at him, and covered his heart with her hand, whispering. "What are you thinking?"

He turned his face away, glancing at the water. He shrugged a shoulder, whispering. "I'm just wondering something…you don't have to answer, but…" He sighed. His eyes closed. "What made you stop?"

Stop? When?

"On the side of the road, that day, what made you stop?"

I guess…she shrugged, whispering. "I don't know," she answered truthfully, shrugging her hsoulde,r smiling down at him. "I guess I just saw you and thought…hey, it's Tim. I haven't talked to him in awhile and…and I was done with Chris so I mean…" It was hard to answer, because she honestly wasn't sure why she invited him back to her house.

Maybe she knew what was going to happen.

Maybe she just found it inevitable anyway. "Maybe it's why I put up with you for so long, when most girls would have…would have gotten a restraining order or something, but…I knew you wanted me and I kind of liked it," she truthfully admitted. She arched an eyebrow, whispering. "Most girls would die if they knew Tim Riggins wanted them and only them. I guess I played into it until I just…you went away and I stopped and then there you were and I thought…what the hell, you know? Invite him back to the house and a shower was the only excuse and…it went from there."

She chuckled, her cheeks flushing. "Besides, it had been over a year since I last…you know. You were the last one. Jason and I could never…" Well, that wasn't any of his business, so she closed her mouth on it, glancing away, to the lake.

So in answer to your question, after all that rambling, I don't really know.

I guess I just wanted to.

And well, I'm going to do what I want to do now.

That was her answer. "I wanted to do," she murmured. She sat up a little, glancing down at him, turning and folding her feet beneath her, looking down at her and smiling. "I wanted you. So I did it."

Tim chuckled, a smile pulling wide on his face. He waited a moment, staring up at the sky, obviously thinking about something. He swallowed, his throat bobbing and opened his mouth, but closed it.

What, she wondered. He was spending some time on this. Must be important. After another moment, he finally glanced sideways to her and lifted his eyebrows, whispering. "I wasn't talking about this summer."

Huh?

She blinked. That didn't…well…she frowned, shaking her head. "Wait…well…when were you talking about?"

He sat up, pushing to his feet and jumped off the rock, walking back to the beach, turning and holding his hands out to the sides. "You coming or not?"

I don't know what you were talking about, she thought, climbing down from the rock and running at him, jumping onto his back. Her arms went around his neck and she smiled, kissing his cheek. "This was the best summer," she whispered. "Thank you."

He tilted his face back, smiling up. "Yeah. It was."

Tim proceeded to carry her back to the truck on his back, where she jumped down and put her flip flops back on, climbing into the passenger side. She sighed hard, tapping her fingers on the open window. "What do you want for dinner?" she asked.

"Don't you have to eat with your dad tonight?"

"No, I got out of it."

"You want pizza?"

"No," she said, looking out the window as they drove away. She slouched down a little, thinking about her stomach for a minute. Maybe Chinese, but Tim hated Chinese. She was sick of burgers… "Let's just stop and get some burgers," she decided.

"Sure. Hey, you know it's your birthday in a week, you want to hook up then?"

It is my birthday in a week. "How sweet of you to remember," she giggled, turning towards him and resting her chin on his shoulder, peering up with narrowed eyes. "Are you going to get me a present?"

"What did I get you last year?"

"You got me the gift of your annoying presence."

"How thoughtful of me. What about the year before? I can't remember."

"Tim you have never gotten me anything for my birthday because the year before that was…" she trailed off, her voice petering away to a gasp in remembrance. She covered her mouth with her palm, smiling slightly, her eyes widening in memory.

He kept his eyes on the road, but turned his face slightly towards her, laughing nervously. "What? You okay?"

I'm fine, I'm…I'm remembering something, she thought, running her tongue over her lips. That was her birthday. She was driving away after that fight with Jason. When nothing was going to ever be the same. The complete and utter breakdown.

Why did you stop? That night? Why did you stop?

That wasn't the night I was talking about.

She smiled again, wider this time. He remembered. She cleared her throat, her voice crystal clear. So he wouldn't forget. "I stopped my car because I saw someone who needed me." She turned her head, meeting his eyes as he turned his head completely to look at her from the driver's seat.

Maybe that wasn't the whole reason.

With a grin, she continued, her voice soft. "I stopped my car because I was trying to be a good girl and when I got back in my car…" Well, when she got back in her car, she thought she was going to hell. Because she felt so damn good for the first time since Jason's accident and it was with a guy who wasn't her boyfriend. It was with his best friend. Her friend.

"Well Tim," she sighed, laughing a little and glancing out the window again, waiting a moment for the words to come to her. The trees passed by quickly; he was going a little fast, probably freaking out about what she was going to say next. "Well Tim, I stopped my car because I wanted to stop my car and because I wanted to help you and when I got back in my car, I felt terrible and I felt like I was going to hell, but…two years later…"

Two years later, damn…She laughed. "Two years later, the reason I stopped my car was because deep down I just wanted to help you. I care for you Tim. A lot."

I might even be a little bit, just a tiny bit, and I will never admit it, in love with you.

There you are Tim. My answer. "That's why I stopped my car Tim."

Tim turned his attention completely on the road, driving silently back into town. Once in town, he drove her to the apartment and she climbed out, closing the door with a loud thud, reaching into the back for her beach bag.

When she turned around, the bag went falling to the ground, as Tim grabbed her face between his hands, lifting her clear off her feet in an intense, hard kiss. She gripped the back of his neck, fumbling around for a moment as he carried her up the stairs.

It would have been more romantic if she didn't have to drop him and go run downstairs to get her bag and unlock the door and for Tim to remember he had to move his truck to the next street over so Buddy didn't recognize it.

She giggled hard when he returned, pulling him back into the apartment towards her bedroom. "Stay the night," she mumbled against his lips, falling back against the wall.

"What about your dad?" he asked.

I'll figure it out in the morning, she thought, flicking the lock shut to her bedroom door and tugging his shirt open.


	14. The End

**Chapter 14: The End**

"So you caused a bit of an uproar in there."

Lyla marched out of the car dealership, in plain view of her father, holding Tim's hand, smiling like she was really up to no good. The look was just plain hot on her, Tim had to admit. The fact that she had her hair done up like she was this little good girl and wearing that cross necklace, which was currently bouncing on her collarbone from the force of her footsteps did nothing to help with the "good girl gone bad" look in her eyes.

She's always been bad, he thought, smiling to himself.

She glanced over her shoulder. "You know you probably made it worse when you waved at my dad as we were leaving."

"Well he was just looking at us."

To be honest, he wasn't at all surprised she'd chosen that route to tell her father about them. It was just…there it was. Take it or leave it. He'd stopped, when she called his name, and just watched her. The minute he saw her look over her shoulder, where Buddy was at the buffet, after finishing his torture of Mrs. Taylor, Tim knew that Lyla was going to do something.

He was kind of glad, because it just answered everything right then and there. Told the town, the team, and Buddy, all at once. Now sure, she had to deal with the aftermath, but he didn't expect there would be one, because Buddy would be too surprised to come up with anything in return.

So where are we going now, he wondered, climbing up into his truck. He glanced sideways, flashing a smile. "You want to go back in there and make out again?"

She grinned, leaning over and took his face into her hand, kissing him again. This kiss was much slower and less of a statement. Just the two of them. No other motive or reason behind it. "I think that you should go back in there and tell my father that you stole his little girl's virtue and honor."

"I think if I did that I'd be lying," he said against her mouth, laughing when she snorted, her nose pushing against his. He pulled away from her long enough to start the truck and drive out of the parking lot, before glancing towards her, still wrapped around his arm. "So where are we going milady?"

There was always his house, but Billy and Mindy were probably there. He could drive out to the lake, maybe. Or go get some food, but she'd probably already eaten.

She shook her head, looking out the windshield. "I don't know."

"Anywhere?"

Turning her head, she smiled wide, nodding quickly, whispering. "I'm really, really glad that we're doing this."

He smiled, turning onto the road heading towards her house. He figured she wasn't quite done with annoying Buddy. I'm glad too, he thought, but said nothing. He drove in silence, listening to her comfortable breathing. They were find not talking. He figured it was one of those things that just made them good together.

My girlfriend.

He felt like a stupid kid for finding that something worth smiling about, but he supposed it was. Lyla Garrity was his girlfriend. It was official now. No more sneaking around, no more lying to people, and no more just…vague wondering.

They were in fact dating.

It wasn't like they were going to end up together forever or get married, but…he hoped this could at least go beyond a few weeks. Not to Jason Street levels of being her boyfriend, where they had their lives planned out for the next ten years, but…just…

Well, he guessed it was good just knowing that they were actually dating. She didn't need to worry about Rally Girls or Tyra or anyone else. And he didn't have to worry about hiding this from her father.

Buddy was…his stomach turned a little. He swallowed hard, pulling the truck up in front of her apartment. "Here you go," he whispered.

"You okay?" she asked, climbing out of the truck and walking around with him towards the steps. She frowned, beginning to walk up to the second floor apartment. "You seem a bit weird."

"Fine."

She smiled again, turning her head and reaching for the doorknob, unlocking the deadbolt and stepping into the apartment, flicking on a light. "I know what this is about," she murmured, closing the door after he stepped in, and reached for his neck, spinning around him on her toes.

Lyla dropped a kiss to his lips, murmuring. "You're worried about my dad."

"No." Yes.

"He'll be fine. If he doesn't approve of me dating you, I really don't care Tim. I'm not interested in my father's opinion anymore." She smiled, shaking her head and whispering, her eyes dancing. "I guess I was the stupid one, I mean…who cares what he thinks, you know? And…and I know that flirting with the Rally Girls at school and…and not taking yourself seriously were big issues and they still are and I would still appreciate it if you…you took yourself seriously, but I think you will."

I will, I promise, he thought, nodding in agreement. He smiled quickly, whispering. "I'm not changing everything."

"I know and…and I love you, I just…I'm not asking you to change your entire being Tim, I'm just saying that…that tonight you were really great on that football field and you were really…" She laughed a little, still smiling wide. "Mature, coming to me and…and wanting to keep things secret so long as I was happy. I guess that's what showed me it didn't matter who knew."

I don't get that, he guessed. He was just glad that they were together. He kissed her again, whispering against her lips. "So…you're going to save me from your dad when he comes home and wants me dead?"

"You showed tonight that you're too good in tailback to kill. He might just break your shoulder."

"Hey, that's my weak spot."

"Your Achille's Heel?"

He frowned. Heel? "It's my shoulder, Garrity, not my heel."

She rolled her eyes, slapping his chest. "You obviously skipped reading The Illiad in ninth grade."

"There's a good chance that's an accurate statement." He walked over to the couch, flopping back. It felt weird to be out here and not hiding in her bedroom. Fearing when Buddy came home.

She came from the kitchen, holding a bottle of beer. He reached for it, but she pushed his hand away, taking a long sip for herself before passing it to him. He sipped a few times and she took it back. "So what's on TV?" she asked.

"Let's watch highlights from my awesome tailback debut."

"You read the playbook."

"I did. It wasn't as hard as I thought." It was actually pretty easy. He could see it all in his head after he read it. Like a picture. Usually he forgot what the picture looked like.

She kissed his cheek, whispering. "Sometimes just trying is never as hard as you think."

Was that what you did with me? He rested his head back against the couch, flicking the television on. He smiled a little, his eyes darting sideways. He lifted his eyebrow. "Hey. I got my paper back."

"What paper?"

"My summer reading paper."

"Oh?" She turned her head, staring at him. An eyebrow arched. "And?"

He grinned. "B minus."

"Ah!" She screamed, jumping onto him and tackling him into the couch, the two of them laughing like complete morons. She grabbed him around the neck, kissing him hard, mumbling against his lips. "I knew you could do it."

And I knew you could lighten up a little bit too. He said nothing, sitting back up and pulling her against him, before he passed the remote to her and she changed the channel to some chick flick movie. It was an old movie with a filtered lens, but he assumed it was a chick flick because she immediately went "Aw…I love this movie."

"Who is that?"

"Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. An Affair to Remember. I love this movie, it's so romantic. They're going to meet on the top of the Empire State Building but she gets hit by a cab and can't walk and he's very upset and goes to her apartment and doesn't know and then…" She began to tear up, trying to explain the rest of the movie to him.

He just stared at the television, frowning. Why would you watch a movie like that? He took the remote from her, whispering. "It's just a movie…let's change the channel…" He flicked it up to another channel. "See? Star Wars. This isn't going to make you cry."

"It's Empire Strikes Back! Oh, when Han goes into the cryo-thing and says that he knows Leia loves him…"

Good Lord, Tim thought, turning the television off at the exact moment that the front door swung open, cracking into the wall. He scrambled back, letting go of Lyla like she was on fire. He looked up at Buddy, who was scowling at him. "Hello Mr. Garrity," he called, waving.

Well this should be interesting.

The door slammed shut, hard beneath Buddy's hand. He glowered at the both of them, while Lyla made no move to get up from where she was sprawled back against his chest. She'd shoved the bottle of beer into the corner of the couch; thankfully they'd both finished it.

He tried to slide out from beneath her, but she clamped her hand down on his wrist, keeping him in place. "How was the rest of the party?" she asked, her voice steady.

Come on Lyla, it's enough that your dad knows, I don't need you to really piss him off, he thought, his hand sliding to her hip, lightly pushing her away from him as he unfolded himself from beneath her.

"It was fine Lyla Mary."

Yeah, the first name middle name thing was out, so he was going to skedaddle. He gestured to the door, glancing down at her. "I'm gonna' go."

"Yeah, there's a party out at the lake, I'll go with you."

"No," he said, glancing at Buddy, who glowered at him. He shook his head quickly. No, it was fine, they didn't have to spend every single night together. He stepped back towards the front door. His voice softened. "I should get back home. My shoulder is kind of…achy." That was a lie, his shoulder felt perfect.

She nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah, I get it," she whispered, turning her head over her shoulder to peer at her father for a brief moment. She licked her lips, walking with him to the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"We have to go to Westerbee," Buddy said loudly from the kitchen.

She shook her head, giggling a little. "No we don't," she whispered, reaching up to kiss him lightly. "You were amazing tonight. Do it next week."

"Sure thing," he teased, giving her one more kiss. He did like to kiss her. He loved her. He…he loved her. His eyes opened briefly, looking down at her face, her eyes sparkling and her lips curved in a smile. His hand went to her cheek, touching briefly before falling to his side.

This wasn't the time, with her father watching. He didn't even think she realized she'd said it, when they first got in the house.

I love you.

She narrowed her eyes, whispering. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," he breathed, kissing her cheek and reaching down to squeeze her hand. He waved to Buddy, who was still in the corner of the living room, glaring at them and watching their every move. "Goodbye Mr. Garrity!"

All he got was a grunt in return. He smiled at Lyla, who just laughed, waving as he slipped out the front door, closing it behind him. He went out to his truck, looking up and seeing Lyla on the balcony, smiling down and waving at him.

She called down. "See you tomorrow boyfriend."

He just smiled, waving again and climbing up into his truck. He shoved the keys into the ignition and turned, waiting until it roared alive before he allowed himself to speak, quietly to himself. "See you tomorrow girlfriend."

Tim turned to look over his shoulder as he reversed out, waving up at her again. He glanced in his rearview mirror, watching as she waited another minute before going back into the apartment.

Pretty crazy, he thought, whistling low under his tongue. He smiled, long and slow, laughing to himself.

It was about freaking time.

**THE END**


End file.
